Chasing Yesterday
by KairiR5
Summary: He messed up in the past; now she belongs to someone else. One fateful wish may be all he needs to win her back. He had one last chance. He better not screw it up a second time. Auslly, AU, Timetravel. Darkstin .:Dark!Au/stin:.
1. The Chance

**Summary:** He messed up in the past; now she belongs to someone else. One fateful wish may be all he needs to win her back. He had one last chance. He better not screw it up a second time. Auslly, AU.

**A/N: **Okaay! Really quick fic! I _estimate_ that there will be around 5-10 chapters at the most. The idea, legit, hit me out of nowhere while I was in my room the other day, trying to finish my homework… (but failing miserably). 1st chapter won't give much background info, only a few things here and there, but it's supposed to be understandable… chapter 2 should explain everything. If it doesn't, I'll either elaborate it more, or more post will be revealed in the future. Austin, Ally, Trish, and Dez are older than in the TV show… I dunno what age they are, but expect that they should be around 18-21…ish… and it's a bit angst-y… (some people care overwhelmed by fame, frankly enough…)

**Warnings**: OOC, Not beta'd, swearing/language (Austin's fault. _ Much more swearing than I would usually put in a story, but it's supposed to be kinda angst-y… and drama-ish… and showing the horrors of fame… yeah… some of f-bombs…), etc.

Reviews, comments, or constructive criticism? Yes, please!

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Austin&Ally. I wish. But, no.

* * *

**CH I:**

T. H. E. C. H. A. N. C. E.

* * *

"I hate you," she spit out ruefully. Her eyes were brimmed with tears that were threatening to fall any second now. She was going to cry again, for a second time. Her face was puffy with tears that spilled earlier.

He visibly flinched at that hostile statement. She usually wasn't that violent – scratch that. She wasn't a violent person in general.

But, she couldn't – she wouldn't – hate him, right? Just a week ago, she told him she loved him. Tell him this is some sort of joke. She loves him! Disprove his ludicrous idea, someone!

"Wait, let me explain before you do something irrational-" he tried to reason, only to be cut off.

"We're through."

We're.

Through.

Two words. Those two sole words pierced through his heart and crushed it painfully. He felt as if his whole world shattered, falling down on his shoulders painfully and suddenly.

He couldn't speak.

He couldn't say anything.

He was numb.

He needed her.

She couldn't leave him!

"I'm sorry." He stood there, motionless as still as a statue. She looked up at him sadly and then broke their connection. What happened next felt as if it were happening in slow motion. She slowly walked past him and towards the exit of the house they have been sharing for two years now.

He followed her figure until she was out of his sight.

He felt as if something inside of him died inside of him.

When she walked through the door, she took part of him with her.

He wanted to shout, to run after her, and to beg her not to leave him, and that he needed her, but her couldn't. His mouth refused to cooperate with his brain – it was as if he were a mute.

Two words.

One huge affect.

His world was shattered.

:::

He glared at the boy she was hanging off of.

Fucking Houston.

He couldn't believe it. She was going for another guy with a city as a name, like Dallas, Trent, himself, and numerous of other, but seriously, Houston? He was the worse of them all, he thought grimly. She had to go dating Houston. Why couldn't she realize that he was still madly in love with her? He didn't want to see that motherfucker. (It was apparent that she would only go for guys with cities as a name. Dallas, Trent, Houston, and himself are only a few of her past boyfriends.)

He swore under his breath as she kissed her current boyfriend on the lips passionately.

He threw his glass cup to the ground in anger.

Was she trying to anger him?

He was already jealous enough seeing her with Houston – did she need to go to such lengths to make him want to murder? Because he's pretty sure he would murder for her, in fact, he would _gladly_ murder the guy she's with right now if she wanted him to!

He would do anything to make her happy. As long as she remains his.

She threw him a glance over Houston's shoulder as if she could hear his thoughts. No emotion presented itself on her face – she was emotionless, something that rarely occurred. Ally was a renown happy-go girl that loved to expressed what she liked to feel – happy, sad, fear, anything – she expressed them all. It was wrong to see her without any emotions.

He felt like shouting to the world that she was his – that she belonged to him, and _only_ him.

She's pretty, smart, talented… she's beautiful – oh-so beautiful – who wouldn't want her as their girlfriend or friend?

Girls were envious of her.

Boy lusted over her.

She was unique and beautiful. And very enticing. Not to mention tempting as hell.

He needed her.

He needed one more chance.

His dark brown eyes narrowed as Houston gripped her around the waist tightly and hoisted her up so that they could make out again.

He pushed himself on the chair and angrily stalked away from the scene. He didn't want to make a scene and staying there any longer would be the catalyst for that cause.

Not today, at least.

:::

The Latino's eyes flashed dangerously in warning.

"Do you know how stupid you're acting right now?" she all but yelled at him.

His eyes narrowed in annoyance. Even at her malicious expression did he refuse to flinch.

"Trish, you may be my manager and friend, but you do not control my life. You have no right to tell me what is right and what isn't. You don't even know what is right and what isn't yourself, so what entitles you to inform me?"

Trish's nostrils flared. She glared at him hatefully.

"I can't believe you would even say that! All I want is to help you, but instead, you accuse me of being – "

"Who said I was accusing?" he added, cutting her off mid-sentence. She, however, continued as if she had not heard him.

" – a stupid retard who doesn't know right from wrong. No one knows exactly what's right and what is wrong, 'cause if that were true, then there would not be any stupid mistakes in the world like war and poverty. No one's sure of that… I'm just leading you to what is most correct, in my perspective." He snorted as she finished her sentence, but refused to respond.

'_She's so full of herself!'_ he thought with a grimace.

There was a moment of silence as they eyed each other wearily, before the Latino decided to speak up again.

"…Do you, at least, realize how much you hurt her?" He remained silent, rendered speechless. His mouth opened a couple of times as he tried to respond, but closed each time as he shook that idea from his mind. He paused, trying to come up with words to explain his predicament.

"No. No I don't. I've hurt her so much in the past. I can't imagine how much pain I've put her through. All I know is that I'm guilty, and I'm going to pain, too. But, of course, not to her extent." He paused. "Do you know how much _I_ wish I could take it back and have another chance to make it right?"

The manager and musician stared at each other in silence as soon as he poised the question.

Trish had always been wise and been the one to keep him out of stupid situation. But that was the past, and this is the present. He's going to do this his own way.

On _his own_.

Neither one spoke up for the remainder of the time.

…

The tall red headed male nudged his best friend in urgency.

"Dude. Trish told me to come and try to speak to you." He shrugged his friend's nudges away in frustration.

_Stop. I don't want consolation._

"Hey, man, you gotta lighten up a bit. I just wanted to give you some words of wisdom."

_Stop. You can't imagine how much pain I'm going through. You can't help me._

In the past, he had always gone to his best friend for guidance, but right now, he wanted to take his own path and face this… this situation on his own. He wants to face it head on, to show everyone that he's strong, to show that he's not a weakling.

Another nudge.

"Buddy… Don't wallow in your sorrow any longer."

_Stop!_

He had enough of the crap coming from the red head. He wanted to be left alone! Why could they see it? Why couldn't Trish and his best friend?

He shoved his friend's hand away roughly.

"Leave me the hell alone, Dez."

A sympathetic glance was cast from Dez.

"Dude, I just wanted to tell you that you shouldn't wallow in your sorrow any longer. It's tearing _us_ apart."

Us. Trish, Dez, her, and him. Their team. Their ultimate team. The perfect team…

One manager. One director. One songwriter. One musician.

"She's in pain, too, man. You're not the only one suffering."

His nostrils flared in defiance.

'_What do you know, huh? You've never gone through the same pain as I have! You've always had life easy! Good parents, good life, good friends, good everything! I have always had it hard! My dad was always discouraging, my love life is complicated, parties… fame… everything is rough for me. I've always had to work hard to earn everything. You… you never had to work hard in your life. So what would you know?'_

"Dez – shut the hell up and leave me alone."

"Buddy, I wanted to just help-"

Help.

Help?

You can help me my leaving me the hell alone!

"Shut the hell up."

"…" The red head shook his head and glanced to the ground, mute.

…

He stepped outside of his house and onto the balcony.

He growled as dark thoughts about her assaulted his brain.

He screwed up – yes, he knows he messed up big time – but he needed one more chance. Give him one more chance and he'll fix everything.

He'll make everything right.

He wouldn't mess up twice.

She would be his and not fucking Houston's.

Everything will be perfect.

Give him one more chance.

A shooting star flashed before his eyes and into the dark sky, fading away.

One chance.

* * *

**A/N:**

Haven't heard from me in a while? Well here I am! Honestly, I was on a writer's block-ish… I was trying to figure out what to write next, and since this year's almost over, I gotta finish up everything for my classes… I finally got a story idea, and 'Bam!' I started typing this up quickly! (Different writing style, much? I'm trying this style, only for this fic, so wanna tell me how it is?) It's kinda supernatural how you could get another chance, buttttt; it's fic, right? Yup. Fiction. Non-real. Fake. Made up. Other words that are synonymous to it.

But, okay. Regular chapters should be double or triple this size… Longer, maybe? Possibly? Hopefully 3k each chapter… Hopefully its interesting plotline should make up for this shortness… But, anyways! The plotline should be clearer next time around, if you don't get it right now… Don't worry, I'm don't expect you guys to get it right away, at least not now… But if you do, kudos to you! (:

Check out my other stories, _'Don't Forget Me'_, _'Unknowingly'_, and _'Of Interfering & Insecurities'_! More stories to come later on!

Updates (until completed) = 1 week & 1/2 at the latest; 5 days at the earliest.

Follow me on twitter for occasional updates and usual idiocy! My user is (at) KairiR5! (: (Ask me any questions and I'll answer them to the best of my abilities, when I have time!)


	2. Starting Point

**Summary:** He messed up in the past; now she belongs to someone else. One fateful wish may be all he needs to win her back. He had one last chance. He better not screw it up a second time. Auslly, AU.

**A/N: **1st chapter didn't give much background info, only a few things here and there, and many of you guys were confused, but chapter 2 should explain everything. If it doesn't, it'll be clearer in the future. It's a little longer than the previous chapter, but not by much. Hopefully next chapter will be much longer… At this point, it seems like the story will span over 5 chapters – most likely this will be a 7-10-chapter story. Thank you for the wonderful reviews! They motivate me to write! :D

**Warnings**: OOC, Not beta'd, swearing/language (Mostly Austin's fault. _), etc.

Reviews, question, comments, or constructive criticism? Yes, please!

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Austin&Ally. I wish. But, no.

* * *

**CH II:**

S. T. A. R. T. I. N. G. P. O. I. N. T.

* * *

Sunlight shown in from the window creaks, landing and touching everything in reach of the room.

The figure on the bed was a man, who was sprawled all over the mattress. He was lying comfortably on his back, with a comforter on his body.

He was dressed in a long sleeved undershirt and a t-shirt over it. He was wearing dark blue jeans that had several rips. It was apparent that he had not changed before falling asleep. As a result, his clothes were ruffled with the long night of sleep.

He groaned when light shown on his face, and rolled over onto his front. He moved his face towards the pillow and promptly stuffed his face into the object, obscuring his face from any light. He omitted several hissed of pain as he carried out his action.

His head was aching like hell.

What did he do last night to causing him such pain?

He groaned.

All he knew was whatever he did earned him a huge hangover.

He groggily tried to get rid of sleep induced coma he was experiencing. He shuffled a couple of times on the bed to wake him up.

'_What time was it?'_ he thought once he was able to sort his mixed matched thoughts.

He slowly peaked his head out of the pillow and opened one bleary eye. He blinked a couple of times to clear his vision before moving his line of vision to the table beside his bed and glanced at the clock.

10:37 A.M.

He released a frustrated sigh and rolled onto his back so that he was sprawled over with his face to the ceiling. His two muscular tan arms went behind his head for support as he relaxed.

He was alone in his room. It felt weird, as if someone else were supposed to be with him, also.

Something was nagging at the back of his mind, screaming at him, relating to the time displayed in the clock.

Strange. 10:37 A.M. rang no bells in his head.

10:37 A.M.

What was so significant about that time?

He groaned and shifted his head for a minute. His head still hurt – no complicated thinking at this time. He was still recovering from the hangover. No more thinking.

Even at his demands, his head pumped images of last night's dream came flooding into his mind like a dam that was cracked.

He abruptly got into a sitting position, ignoring the pounding in his head.

His mind reeled back in thought.

She… she wouldn't break up with him, would she?

She wouldn't leave him for that bastard Houston, would she?

She wouldn't cut all ties from him, would she?

…She wouldn't hate him, would she?

A hand went through his hair, combing it uncertainly and ruffling it messily, more than it was at the moment.

Was it true? Did he… did he honestly mess things up with her so that she cut off all relations with him?

Before he could immerse himself deeper into thought, his phone on the beside began ringing and vibrating wildly. It continued to ring, but he refused to pick it up, hoping that his refusal to answer the phone would give a hint to he caller that he didn't want to speak to him or her.

After five rings, the phone stopped all motion and the screen turned blank after a few seconds.

He exhaled in relief. His head hurt like a motherfucker. He drew his hand out of his hair and began to message his temple, as if it would take the pain away.

And then the phone began ringing, again, after a minute or two of silence.

He swore loudly.

A pulse of pain surged through him. He nursed his head, recovering from the major headache.

He, once again, left the phone alone, hoping that he or she would leave him alone.

Likewise, the phone rang five times before stopping.

He groaned. He fell back on his back and sighed.

What was he going to do today? He could have sworn that he had a writing session with A-

**RING**

He got into a sitting position.

"Freaking hell!" he all but shouted in aspiration. His head was pounding, and all he wanted was some peace and quiet. His head hurt enough without the noise.

Add the noise and give him a damn headache the size of Texas, would ya? It's not like he had anything to do today. He was a free man today; maybe he should go to a club and get drunk, or something… But the damn phone was ringing like crazy and disrupting his morning hangover.

It was the third time this person had called. He, or she, would get a piece of his mind!

He grumpily picked up his cell phone, without identifying the ID, and all but growled into the speaker.

"You listen here, Aus-" a female voice rang from the other end, laced with malice, as soon as he picked up her call, but she was cut off before she could finish her rant.

"What the hell do you want?" he spit out. She cleared her throat, trying to interject.

"All I want to say is –" Once again, she was interrupted.

"I have a fucking hangover the size of Texas right now! Whoever you are – "

"Wha-?"

The voice on the other end of the phone abruptly stopped talking. Previously, she had been trying to raise her voice so that he could hear her, her voice was clamoring with his, but she was rendered speechless at his statement. No sound came from her end.

" – you better have a damn good reason for calling at this time. Think before calling me." The speaker finally spoke up after a minute of silence in a monotone voice.

"It's your songwriter, Ally Dawson." His eyes widened in shock and in revelation and he promptly shut his mouth.

Holy shit!

"Am I important enough to interrupt your hangover, or am I interrupting you, jerk?" He immediately jumped in and added his side of the story, trying to interject.

"Ally, no, I'm – "

" – too busy partying and indulging in the wonderful life of fame and fortune for focusing on your friends and family?"

"No!" he quickly denied. "No," he denied again, albeit more quietly, as if he were trying to convince himself.

"_Two years ago you would have not gone to parties like you do daily, now…"_

He realized that maybe he was a little irresponsible and neglecting his friends a bit, but he didn't mean to! Partying was just a joy to him. "Ally, wait, hear me out, please – "

"No, Austin. I'm sorry I wasted your time, which you could have used to nurse your hangover. I just wanted to remind you of our scheduled songwriting time today at eight."

"_Two years ago you would have remembered out songwriting sessions."_

Shit!

His eyes quickly darted to the clock in frustration.

10:43 A.M.

And then it hit him. Holy shit! No wonder his mind was nagging at him about the time. He was nearly three hours late for their writing session!

Fuck!

"Frankly, you find it not "a damn good reason" for calling at this time."

"Ally, it's not like that. I was just out late last night. No – I meant I – I was busy – No, I was just out." His words were scrambled in frustration. He was making up excuses; he knew it. He just didn't want her to be mad at him. In fact, the last person on earth he wanted her to be mad at was him. "I… I just forgot about the meeting today. I was busy – "

"'I was busy,'" she reiterated in an emotionless tone. He winced slightly at her monotone voice. "You always use that bullshit excuse. But why am I not surprised?" He cringed at her accusation, and her cursing. She rarely cursed, and when she did, she was passionate. "You missed three of our four scheduled sessions in this week alone. And that doesn't even included the numerous of times you missed our sessions in this month alone." He frowned, knowing that she was right about him.

"Just listen, please Ally – "

"No, Austin. If you don't listen to me, why should I? Fame has gotten to you, Austin. What happened to you?"

"Nothing, Ally," he whispered. "I'm still the same guy you know, Als." She breathed quietly on the other end. He could hear her shaky intake of air.

"You changed," she stated quietly, almost non-audible.

And then something snapped inside of him at her accusation.

"Damn it, Ally! Let me fucking explain before you jump to bullshit excuses!" he exclaimed in annoyance.

"_Two years ago you wouldn't have sworn like you are now."_

She inhaled sharply at his outburst.

His eyes widened in terror.

Shit! He took it too far that time. He didn't mean to snap at her; he was just too frustrated at the moment and he had a massive headache that was influencing his thoughts and actions. In fact, he had never snapped at Ally, ever. In fact, he rarely snapped at anyone at all. He was normally an outgoing and loving guy. Something just gave him an impulse to do just that.

"_Two years ago you wouldn't have snapped at me."_

It would be best to apologize quickly.

"Ally, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to snap at – "

"No. Austin. I'm tired of this," she whispered. Her voice got louder. "I'm tired of fighting with you. You changed. Fame and fortune transformed you into this… this guy I'm talking to right now. You're not this kind of person, Austin. What happened?"

"_Two years ago would have been the old Austin."_

"…" She continued her speech, ignoring his silence.

"Two years ago you would have not gone to parties like you do daily, now… Two years ago you would have remembered out songwriting sessions. Two years ago you wouldn't have sworn like you are now. Two years ago you wouldn't have snapped at me. Two years ago would have been the old Austin. Now, you're the new Austin, who loves to party, who constantly forgets our writing session, who swears every second of the day… wh-who snaps at m-me at the littlest th-things…" She paused, her voice cracking at the end of her sentence. She sharply inhaled, trying to gain her composure.

"I…"

"Good-bye, Austin."

"Wait!" he cried out, imploring her to listen to him.

The connection cut, leaving a loud beep in its wake from the other end of the line.

He remained motionless at the silence.

_'Your call has ended. The person you have called has ended the phone call. Please leave a message after the beep – '_ a feminine voice from her phone echoed into his ears.

He threw the phone at the wall and swore.

He threw the covers off his body and got to his feet, walking to the nearest wall, which he promptly punched as soon as he reached the foundation.

He ignored the pain pulsing through his injured hand and began shouting at the wall in his anger.

Fuck!

He messed up, big time.

He stopped as his head began beating harder than it had all morning. His mind went blank as he recalled being in this previous situation.

It's as if he's been through this same situation before.

Déjà vu.

"_Now, you're the new Austin, who loves to party, who constantly forgets our writing session, who swears every second of the day… wh-who snaps at m-me at the littlest th-things…"_

He leaned his forehead against his open palm and began trying to will the headache he accumulated the previous night away.

He was trying to recall what was happening.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he has a whim that he would go to the Sonic Boom and apologize her. It was as if he could already tell the future – like he's been through this whole ordeal in the past –

He snapped his head up and stared straight at the wall as images from the "night before" bubbled into his mind.

He remembered now!

Last night, he was outside in the patio of the house and he saw a shooting star. He remembered wishing that he had another chance to make things right with her.

And he was given another chance.

…A once in a lifetime opportunity.

Did God grant him this last chance? Did he truly deserve this?

Whatever the answer was, he was lucky.

Someone had given him another chance in life.

When he had lost her, he had felt like his whole world was falling apart.

Only with her by his side did he feel complete.

And he did have everything he could possibly need – friends, family, fame, fortune… and most importantly, her – his girlfriend. His world was complete.

He just needed it to stay that way.

No more mistakes.

He clenched his hands together tightly in resolution.

This time… this time he would fix things with her. He wouldn't make the same mistakes twice.

_"You changed…"_

With Ally's speech clearly in his mind, he hardened his resolution.

He would start making things right, starting today.

No more mistakes.

_"You changed…"_

* * *

**A/N:**

Updates range from 5-12 days.

More reviews = Faster updates!

Follow me on twitter for occasional updates and usual idiocy! My user is (at) KairiR5! :)

Questions, comments? Oh, and did anyone catch my hints? ;) –wink-wink- More clues to Austin's mistakes, no? Honestly, I'll let you on my secret: I'm making up the plot as I go. ;) If you have any suggestion, tell me! I really appreciate it!

Let me elaborate – we know that Austin is, by Ally's rant: partying daily, forgetting their songwriting sessions (he did neglect to go to their session in the Burglars & Boobytraps episode, but that's a little different... He actually made it up to her at the end of this episode... in this story, he doesn't, really...ish...), snapping at Ally and others (i.e. Trish & Dez), swearing like a sailor – basically, he's been transformed by fame.

Any other notable clues you would like to address? What do you think happened? Let's see how far fame has changed the Austin we all know and love...

Drop me a line? (:


	3. Mending

**Summary:** He messed up in the past; now she belongs to someone else. One fateful wish may be all he needs to win her back. He had one last chance. He better not screw it up a second time. Auslly, AU.

**A/N: **3 chapters down, about 5 more to go (Longer chapter than the last one)! So we learned more about Austin in the last chapter, no? Do you guys kinda understand his POV? It's written in his POV, either way, but, do you understand his perspective? If not, more insights coming your way! (I'm extremely excited! I'm starting to read _'Romeo and Juliet'_, and I'm loving the masterpiece by Shakespeare (_'Romeo and Juliet'_ has always been my favorite Shakespeare play!).)

You'll get a glimpse of Darkstin (and a bit of Insanestin...) and Angelly is gonna be introduced this chapter! (Dark – Au/stin; Angel – A/lly)

**Warnings**: OOC, Not beta'd, swearing/language (Mostly Austin's fault. _), etc. (Several f-bombs coming your way... be warned!)

Reviews, question, comments, or constructive criticism? Yes, please! (They motivate me to write!)

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Austin&Ally. I wish. But, no.

* * *

**CH III:**

M. E. N. D. I. N. G.

* * *

He inhaled sharply, mentally and physically preparing himself for his encounter with her.

He wasn't sure what he would expect from her this time around. Sure he had experienced this once before in the past, but now, the future could alter because of his actions. In fact, all he was defiantly sure was the fact that he would be heading towards Sonic Boom some time later and try and mend their already fragile relationship (which was slowly collapsing with his constant partying).

If he could recall correctly, this event happened about three months before the future, to which he had come from.

Three months to the past... he had exactly three months before she would break off everything with him – both as a girlfriend and a songwriter.

What did he do the last time to get her to forgive him?

Did he buy her flowers or something?

Or did he sing her a song?

Or, better yet, did he apologize to her, sincerely, for neglecting her?

He was stalling for the inevitable. He knew he was taking his sweet time to head over to the store and gravel at her feet forgiveness.

To be honest, he was taking the long road to her family owned store, if you so wanted to know. He went as far as to tidy up his room – something that rarely happened on a daily basis, due to his laziness (Yes, Ally was living with him, but he kinda figured that she wouldn't be back in the house for a while because she's angry with him.).

Truth be told, he was stalling because he was afraid. He was afraid she would hate him and leave him, like she would, three months from now.

The first time she left time, it hurt like hell. It hurt oh-so-much, so much that he felt as if a piece of his heart was taken from him.

He wasn't sure if he could stand another departure from her.

He wasn't paying attention to the road – his feet were moving on its own, on autopilot.

But, at last, despite his stalling, he finally arrived at Sonic Boom. The inevitable had finally happened, no matter how much he tried to avoid it.

It just had to happen, like it did in the past, and it must happen in the future.

Now, all that was left to do on the _'To Do List' _was to apologize to her and get her to forgive him, like he did in the past.

But, the million-dollar question was: _'How?'_

:::

He began taking deep breaths.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Lulling breaths; soothing breaths; calming breaths.

They reassured him, like a pat on the back, that he would be fine, that everything would fall perfectly in place. They boosted his confidence, and he smiled.

He was ready.

:::

He stepped inside of the store, uneasily, scanning the interior of the store for signs of the songwriter. He braced himself for the scolding from Ally, or, at the least, the cold shoulder.

No signs of a brown haired, pale, and dark brown-eyed girl.

He quirked and eyebrow at the emptiness of the store. It was strange that she wasn't present in the first floor, and the fact that she left the store unmanaged. Usually, she would at least leave someone in charge, even someone like Dez; she wouldn't dare leave the store uncharged, let alone let the door unlocked.

Perhaps she closed the store and left it in a fit of anger against him. But, then again, the clues didn't add up.

Why would she leave the store unlocked, then? It wasn't like her to do that – she was very precise and careful, so it was clear that she was somewhere present in the building.

If she wasn't on the first floor, she was defiantly on the second floor.

His eyes wandered to the practice room.

There.

:::

He stood outside of the practice room, unsure of how to approach the situation.

After heading up the steps to the second floor, he was faced with a closed door. He could hear noises coming from the inside of the room, but he couldn't clearly identify and make out the precise words.

But, here he was, faced with a dilemma: Knock on the door and speak to her or leave her alone so that she could cool down and then, he could confront her later on the topic?

It seemed like the later option was a better choice, because she was extremely scary when mad, and because he was a bit terrified of her reaction. Knowing Ally, she would keep ranting until he learned his lesson. But, knowing himself, he would break her trust again, despite his attempts at preventing such occurrences.

He continually asks himself this question:

'_What did he do last time when faced with this situation?'_

He couldn't remember what happened in the past, or surely he would refer to that situation for guidance and reference.

He sighed in aspiration.

Instead, he went with his instincts (_'You better not fail me, instincts!'_).

He soon found himself knocking on the door and opening the barrier that separated the songwriter and the musician. He peeked his head inside, carefully making sure that he was safe, before entering the room with his full body. He was careful not to make any noises to alert his presence in the room.

He eyed her form, wearily.

'_Ally.'_

She didn't seem to notice his presence, or his knocking, for the matter. It was also a possibility that she was ignoring him all together, after today's events.

She was at the piano, her back facing him. Crumpled paper laid all around her petite body, indicating her frustration and lack of inspiration (He knew, after years of knowing Ally, that she only 'epically failed' at writing songs when she was frustrated, angry, annoyed, or pissed off. And due to the littered paper on the ground, he deducted that she was, indeed, frustrated, angry, annoyed, or pissed off, or, possible, and most likely, all four emotions.).

"Stupid Austin," she muttered darkly. He couldn't help but hold back a smile, despite the seriousness of it all.

She always knew what to say to make his mood improve, despite not even trying.

He leaned his frame against the door, crossing his arms together, against his chest, to watch her.

Even after all these years, she still amazed him, and still remained a mystery.

But, that's what he loved about her – she was amazingly unique in that way!

"Stupid Austin," she reiterated, grumbling, sounding much softer and less angry, but, at the same time, still retaining her 'pissed off' mood. He, once again, held in a chuckle at her silliness. "Egoistic, jerk, dummy, stupid, idiotic, cute, adorable, hot, sexy and talented boy!" He clamped his lips shut, tightly, keeping the laughter from spilling from his lips.

She thought he was sexy? Oh, how true she was.

"Making me fall for him, and then breaking my heart by drinking, partying, and neglecting me!" she huffed, her voice cracking at the end of her sentence.

And then he felt guilty.

Extremely guilty.

She was right – he let fame get to him, and he hurt her in the process. Nothing he could ever do to make it up to her.

Nothing would be sufficient enough to make it up to her.

He didn't deserve her, to be honest, both as a songwriter and a girlfriend. But, that certainly didn't mean that he didn't need her (He needed her, alright! In fact, he would go insane without her; she always kept him calm and secure.)!

"I can't believe I love him, despite him breaking my heart, over and over again; left to right, like Dez breaking his mother's precious china plates!" she complained more, quietly. He smiled unconsciously.

What did he say? She always knew what to say to make him laugh, and bring his mind off a serious matter – always.

She was just too cute (from the way she dresses, to how she speaks, to her habits – they all conveyed her cuteness.). He knew she talked to herself when she was stressed out, so it must mean that she was extremely stressed out now by her ranting (more than she usually rants).

He loved her, too, possibly, and most likely, more than she loved him – more than he loved anyone else. She was it for him – if she left him, again, he's done with love.

And then he heard sobbing. His eyes widened as soon as he spotted tears running down her beautiful pale and unmarred face.

He-he caused this, didn't he? The pain she's suffering – it's all his fault.

She didn't deserve this shit from him; she had other things to stress over, but thanks to him, she had more burden on her shoulders to deal with, because of his selfishness.

He knew that he would try his best to avoid hurting her again, but, he knew that it would eventually collapse again – the trust she had for him because of a mistake he would do again.

He took a deep breath.

Time to get ready.

:::

He knocked on the wall, once he was prepared to face her (wrath), announcing his presence.

Startled, she turned around with shock plastered on her face, and unshed tears glimmering in her eyes, showing her innocence.

"Aus-Austin?" she stammered. "How long have you been standing there?"

He ignored her, blatantly, slowly stalking towards her position on the bench, determined to get his point across before he was subjected to her questioning. She stumbled off her sit on the bench and backed away from him, to hide behind the grand piano.

He frowned at her reaction. Why was she running away from him? He wasn't dangerous; she shouldn't have to be afraid of him!

"H-hey! What are you doing?" He continued to move forward, stalking her, like a predator stalking its prey. Likewise, she continued to back away, trying to get away from him; she was clearly angry, and didn't want to be in his presence.

His eyes narrowed in irritation.

"Stop running away from me, damn it, Ally!" he scowled. He was last person in the world she should be afraid of.

"I'm pissed off at you, jerk!" He refused to answer her, only staring into her mesmerizing eyes. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Ally," he repeated, refusing to acknowledge her questions. He was in front of her now. He was close – very close – so that she was able to identify the worry in his eyes.

"How long have you been standing there?" she squeaked, asking again. He leaned his forehead against hers, trying to calm his inner rage that was begging to sweep out.

"Long enough," he murmured, finally answering her never-ending questions, before leaning down, his face close to hers, with his mind on capturing her lips into a mind-boggling kiss.

"Wha-?" she uttered before being cut off by the hot, searing kiss, curtsy of a certain singer (who also happened to be her boyfriend!).

* * *

They lay, side-by-side on the bed in their room.

Their hands interlocked in companionship.

He gripped her hand tightly, like if he let go, she would leave him (especially with that worried look on her face, like she was a prey and he was a predator; like she was a rabbit, and he was a wolf.).

He smiled brightly at her, in complete happiness.

She was looking at him, impassively, a strange expression washed over her face. There was a hint of a smile, blossoming on her face at the hints of his goofy expression (like things were like they used to be before he became as popular as he was now, like the way he used to act before he turned famous), but other than that, there was no other indication of the same mutual happiness he shared for her.

He thought about his next move; he had yet to apologize to her, only showering her with his affections. But, knowing her, she wouldn't just forgive him because he kissed her like crazy and showed her affection, despite being lenient in forgiveness – she would only forgive him if he admitted his fault.

He turned his head to lock eyes with her. She turned her head, after noticing movement from the corner of her eye, to watch him. She eyed him, as if determining his actions, as if anticipating his next move. She raised an eyebrow, telling him to speak, if he dared, tempting him to strike a conversation.

And that he did. Under her impenetrable gaze, he finally relented and begun speaking, simply by uttering her name.

"Ally."

"Austin." They stared at one another; another moment of silence passed over them. He mashed his lips together, begging her with her eyes to say something to him, to bring something up.

But she never did speak; only uttering his name once before falling muter again. He implored her silently, hoping she would receive his message to say something, anything.

"I'm sorry," he finally told her, sincerely, after what felt like eons of time. She pressed her lips into a thin line, not responding to him, contemplating deeply on her response to his apology.

"Austin..." she murmured. He felt his heart clench in anticipation. What now?

Would she reject him? (It was possible, after all, the future can change any second, any minute, any hour, any day.)

Would she forgive him?

Would she push him away?

Would she ignore him?

"Please, Ally," he pleaded. He wasn't sure if he could handle rejection. He was afraid – truly terrified for the first time in his life.

"I... Don't do it again." Ally, at last, pardoned and rid him of his burdens.

Finally, he truly felt himself relax at her words. He grinned, letting jolly laughter swell in his lungs and then fill the room with his happiness. He saw her smiled slightly at the corner of his eyes, trying to suppress it. He ignored the reasons for her actions, because he was forgiven!

Forgiven! Would you believe that? Even despite his horrible acts against her, she still had the heart to find something in him for such forgiveness.

He couldn't get rid of that stupid goofy grin that graced his face. It was impossible now that his girlfriend forgave him.

At last he felt like he was complete.

At last he truly felt like the world was perfect.

At last he could sleep at night without nightmares.

At last she was his again.

"Austin!" she exclaimed, abruptly startling him and bringing his whole happy charade to a screeching and halting stop.

"Huh?" he asked, dumbfound by her exclamation. She suddenly had this serious facial mask on.

What happened?

What was wrong?

Did he do something wrong?

"Austin, I love you, but we can't keep on going like this." Huh? What does she mean?

"What do you – ?"

"I mean, we can't continue this..." she waved her arms around crazily, emphasizing her point. "...this whole relationship if you keep on messing with me. I can't take this anymore, Austin. I can't take this heartache, anymore."

"Ally..."

"If you keep breaking my heart over and over again, it's better if we just remain music partners."

What.

Better to remain music partners?

No.

Never.

Impossible.

Fuck no.

Fuck that idea.

Fuck whatever gave her that idea.

Fuck her for thinking that.

He could never go back to being "partners" now that he's head over heels in love with her, now that he's got a taste of this " forbidden fruit". He had once been able to resist her, when he first met her, afraid to risk their careers, but he finally fell into her charm and fell into a deep hole.

"Austin... I-I..." she stuttered, unsure. She inhaled sharply, gathering her wits. "I think we should break up." She just addressed the unthinkable.

And then his whole world collapsed.

He felt like everything in the world exploded and was turned upside down.

He was mad.

The world has gone insane.

This wasn't true.

This was a horrible nightmare.

He felt like he relived the moment three months into the future when he broke up with him.

This never happened in the past! He would have remembered it, after all!

"No," he quickly denied. His heart beat erratically. "No! I won't let you. I can't let you break up with me. I need you, Ally. You can't be anyone else's. I won't accept this! Fucking no to that idea!" She winced at his strong language; even after hearing him curse for a while now, she still can't get used to the concept of swearing.

"Austin, I think it's for the bes-"

"No!" he shouted. "Hell no! Fuck that idea! It's not a good idea! It's the worst idea you've ever come up with." His eyes turned dark brown, nearly black. "I. Will. Go. Insane. Ally! You're my anchor to sanity – without you, I'll go insane with need; I will go crazy."

"Austin," she pleaded, begging him with her eyes, like she was in pain.

"I won't give up on you, Ally."

"Austin, just give me up. Let me go."

"Never. You were never meant to be anyone else's but mine, and mine alone." She bit her lip, nervously. Her eyes darted to the ground, worriedly.

"Austin... I..." She bit her lip harder, as if she was trying to draw blood. His eyes drilled into her head, begging to read her strange thoughts.

And then she released her worn lip.

"Austin. Let's make a deal."

His ears rung uneasily, his heart beat quickened.

What deal?

What was she thinking?

What he wouldn't give to hear her thoughts just this once.

"It depends; what kind of deal?" His voice was dark and gruff, yet, at the same time, it retained its calmness. They locked eyes, and he finally truly understood her seriousness.

"Let me make this straightforward: If you make three more mistakes, Austin, we're through, for good. No more forgiving you, no more relenting, no more lenient-ness. It's three strikes and you're out."

He stared at her, not understanding why she's putting him through this.

"Ally, why are you – "

"Austin, we can't keep on doing this – this heart break, healing, heart break, healing, heart break, healing." Tears shimmered in her eyes. "I can't handle this anymore."

And then his heart broke for her.

If accepting this deal healed her, then he would accept it. Besides, he wouldn't make any more mistakes, now that he's been through everything once.

"Alright. I accept your deal."

And then she smiled her genuine smile, one in which he hasn't seen in ages (Before, she would often smile fake smiles, but, this smile... this smile is genuine, because her eyes brighten with her curved lip).

He smiled back in retaliation. When she's happy, he's happy.

They embraced, and all past mistakes were forgotten in their wake.

All that mattered was them, and only them.

* * *

**A/N: **

Okayyy.

First thing's first on my list of addressing: So, many of you must know by now that this story deals with time travel, redo, blast-to-the-past, whatever you guys wanna call it. Buttt, despite being involved with time travel, I'm trying my best not to go into complex details about time travel and the risks involved. Like, there's this paradox that comes with time travel (Like, how will we know that if we travel back in time (if possible in the future) that if we correct things, we won't disappear or something? That we would retain our memories?). It's a confusing concept, but I just want to remind you guys that this is just a fictional story that I created plot characters for entertainment, and I didn't want to confuse you guys that much. Honestly, time travel is mind-boggling and I get confused sometimes, too.

Let's go over this chapter. We know that Austin made a promise to himself that he wouldn't mess with her feelings anymore and screw her around, but old habits die-hard. And, Ally's a kind of girl that easily forgives, but, you should know that their relationship is on an extremely thin line. You know that Austin's changed – but, the question is '_what made him change?_' Let's see how our good o' Austin handles this huge responsibility! Oh, and did you notice that our adorkable Ally didn't exactly "forgive" Austin? (hint, hint!) Keep these clues in mind, because they'll come handy later when you come to later chapters!

Drop me a line? (:

Updates range from 5-12 days.

More reviews = Faster updates! (More reviews appreciated!)

Follow me on twitter for occasional updates and usual idiocy! My user is (at) KairiR5! :)

P.S. Did anyone read 'The Lord of The Flies' by William Golding? I need someone to give me an opinion on Simon, who represents religion and spirituality.


	4. Strike One

**Summary:** He messed up in the past; now she belongs to someone else. One fateful wish may be all he needs to win her back. He had one last chance. He better not screw it up a second time. Auslly, AU.

**A/N: **I'm extremely excited! I'm reading _'Romeo and Juliet'_, and I'm loving the masterpiece by Shakespeare (_'Romeo and Juliet'_ has always been my favorite Shakespeare play, too! Shakespeare is brilliant! :D P.S. Did anyone read 'The Lord of The Flies' by William Golding? I need someone to give me an opinion on Simon, who represents religion and spirituality.)

Okay, ok, that aside, chapter numero cuatro!

Darkstin (and a tad bit of Insanestin...) and Sweetlly in this chapter! (Dark – Au/stin; Sweet – A/lly)

**Warnings**: OOC, Not beta'd (excuse the mistakes – I quickly typed this up today, as soon as I got home; I'm determined to update by my schedule!), swearing/language (Mostly Austin's fault. _), etc. (Several f-bombs coming your way... be warned!)

Reviews, question, comments, or constructive criticism? Yes, please! (They motivate me to write!)

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Austin&Ally. I wish. But, no.

* * *

**CH IV:**

S. T. R. I. K. E. O. N. E.

* * *

He gripped her tightly against him, not willing to part from her just yet. He leaned his face into her hair and breathed through his nose.

Her hair tickled his nose lightly, and he smiled.

Strawberries and freesias – purely Ally Dawson.

"Ally," he murmured quietly into her hair.

"Austin," she whispered back. He sent her a small smile, before leaning down, intent on catching her lips with his own to convey his feelings towards her. But, before he could carry out his motives, she pushed him gently on the chest, enough to tell him to 'knock it off', and to convey her message (_'Stop.'_), but not enough to hurt him (not that she could...).

He gave her a confused look, which turned into a displeased one a few seconds later, when he realized that he wasn't able to carry out his motives, and that she denied him.

"Ally – "

"No, Austin," she immediately denied him, already having the knowledge of what he was about to interject, without finishing his sentence (Oh, the benefits of being his best friend for years, and being, simply, his girlfriend). "Not now," she sternly scolded him, giving him a hardened expression, one that was basically saying,

'_No; don't even try with me, mister,'_ without any words being expressed between the two of them.

"But – " he tried to interject, but was denied sharply with a _'You really wanna try me, and test my patience?' _look from his girlfriend.

He winced slightly, which was barely noticeable, before pressing his lips into a thin line, hiding his emotions (like he always does, nowadays, she noticed, troubled by the realization), and sighed deeply.

He shut his eyes tightly, holding back any emotions that threatened to pass through his expressive eyes, and he, then, opened them, after gaining control of his inner self.

(_'Calm yourself. Your temper is what leads to your corruption. Your temper is what led Ally to break up with you in the first place – in the future. You don't want that to happen, so, calm down. Calm down. Calm the fuck down.'_)

He inhaled quietly and regained composure.

Inhale and exhale.

Remain calm.

His eyes opened, revealing expressive coca brown eyes.

He looked down at her and gave her a sheepish expression, as if apologizing for his crude behavior, and it instantly reminded her of the old him – before he became famous; like everything was still the same, before everything changed drastically once he got a taste of the glamorous life of a rockstar (partying... fame... fortune... money... everything was available to you at that point in life...).

She couldn't help but smile in retaliation.

He grinned a huge grin, knowing that he made her smile, like she always did...

...Before she broke up with him.

...Before she got a whiff the 'new him'.

...Before she pushed him away from her life.

The sly expression was suddenly back on his face as he tried to take advantage of her now rarely real happiness (her really happiness now only appeared only once in a while; it was caused by him and his stupidity), by kissing her silly, but she immediately caught on and narrowed her eyes at him both dangerously, and playfully, in a pseudo-threatening manner.

He raised his hands up, jokingly, in a surrendering manner.

"Kidding, kidding, Als!" he reassured her, and she allowed a small smile to warm itself on her face again, as she relaxed.

Her heart warmed immediately at the sound of her old nickname from the musician (She really missed the sound of 'Als', and 'Alls' coming from his mouth. The nickname... It was... endearing...).

It was just like the old times, and she really believed that he would remain this way, never reverting back to his past self, and his newly acquired habits.

She pushed him away, so that she could get some personal space.

And then her eyes darted to the clock on the wall, to determine the time to prepare some lunch for the both of them, and it said: '5:17 pm'. Her mouth pressed into a thin line, her mind going a thousand miles and hour to map out her schedule that afternoon, when her mind reminded her of the time '6:00 pm'. He had kept in the house for about four hours now, and something was nagging at the back of her mind about the time, six o'clock.

Her eyebrows furrowed, as she wondered what was so significant with that time, when it hit her.

'6:00 pm.': Austin Moon's concert in Orlando, Florida.

She immediately frowned. He had at a concert at 6:00 pm, in Orlando, which was an hour away, and if he were to leave now, he would still be late to his _own _show. And that didn't even include getting dressed and prepped for the concert (which would possibly, and most likely take about a half an hour or so, knowing him).

But, even so, he hadn't prepared for his own show, and that was his responsibility; not hers, not Dez's, not Trish's (even though she was his manager; she only booked his shows and reminded him of the time, which she had exactly done).

Trish had reminded him several times in the week alone (not mentioning the entire month, which was a lot, by the way), but, obviously, he either, a: forgot, or b: ignored her and carried on with his own hobbies (which was much more likely to happen between the two opinions).

"Austin," she addressed, tight-lipped. He immediately turned to face her, fully, and stopped his antics, raising a curious eyebrow at her; his attention was on hers, 100%.

"Huh? What's up?"

"What time is it?" She prided herself in being extremely calm, when speaking to him. He gave her a strange expression, but he, nonetheless, darted his eyes to the clock to answer her question.

"It's '5:21', why?" His eyes wandered from her face to the clock, wondering if she couldn't see properly (and needed glasses, or something, or was blind; somehow...), or, he was determining if she was just being to lazy to identify the time herself (which was completely absurd, especially for Ally, who wasn't renown as a lazy person), or she was joking with him (which was also strange, because why would she be joking with him, especially with time?).

"Don't you have to be somewhere soon?"

"Yes?" he answered in a suspicious tone.

" Where exactly do you have to be in approximately 40 minutes?" He scrunched his eyebrows together, trying to recall his schedule.

"The concert in Orlando?" he answered her, sounding more like a question, rather than a response.

"And about how long does it take to get there if you start driving now?" she continued to interrogate, throwing questions left to right at him, without break.

"Around '6:30' – Ally, I really don't understand where you're trying to go with these questions. It would be better if you just told me 'what's up' than bother with all this shit," he pleaded. "So, please, please stop with the mind fucking. I was never as brilliant as you were, Ally, if you haven't noticed after all these years, and I never will be," he joked, trying to bring back the smile on her face.

But, despite his attempts, she remained impassive, though, on the inside, she was struggling to keep a straight, poker face.

She, instead, plastered a disappointed facial expression on her face.

He changed a lot from the sweet boy who was so attentive to her needs, and the boy who cherished his fans greatly.

"Austin."

"Hmm?" he mumbles, confused because of her numerous, never ending, questions.

"You should leave."

"What?" he sharply questioned, furious by that notion. "Why?" Why would she make him leave? What did he do? All he wanted was to spend more time with her!

"You need to leave, Austin. You need to get ready for your concert."

"I know that," he murmured. She narrowed her eyes at his attitude.

He was unconvinced that this concert – _his_ concert – was important.

"There's a concert, _your_ concert, in half an hour. If you go now, you might make it in time, with a little delay." He just furrowed his eyebrows.

"Ally, it's fine. My fans can wait for a while. It's only a bit more waiting, it's not as if they've never waited before in their life." She turned her head sharply and glared at him.

"_You're_ fans can _wait_?" she reiterated.

(_'Huh? What's with the pissed off expression on her face? And the anger in her voice? What's there to be angry about?'_)

"What the hell Austin! Don't you care anymore? Don't you cherish your fans anymore? They're not your toys; they have feelings, too! If you continue doing this... this... crap, _no one_ will be your fan anymore – myself included!" she hissed out, outraged by the fact that he even considered that ludicrous idea.

His nostrils flared slightly. "Ally. They can wait." He scoffed. He continued to speak. "And -

"What? Wait? Are you crazy?" she exclaimed over his voice, in the background.

"-All I wanted to do was to spend some fucking time with you, my own damn girlfriend. Is that too much to ask for?"

"I just want the best for you!" she shouted, challenging him, and making him stop, mid-speech. He laughed in a mocking manner.

"Well, aren't you the little helper?" he mocked. She glared at him.

"I can't believe you! All I wanted to do was to help, but I guess you don't need me anymore, huh, Austin?" He sneered in response.

"Help me? Help me? Fuck you!" She flinched in retaliation.

Why was he _so rude_?

Why was he _so different_?

Why was he _acting like this_?

What happened _to him_?

"You're always butting yourself into my fucking business," he shot back at her, coldly. "Well, fuck you! Why can't you mind your own damn business? Huh? You can't handle not sticking your little fingers into my business, huh? You need to be a little 'Miss Nosey,' bitch? If your not involved, you have to shove your way in, huh?"

She breathed heavily. Her breathing became uneven at that simple statement, to the point of stopping all together. Tears were threatening to fall from her eyes, shimmering dimly in her normally bright, dark brown eyes.

What?

He just said all that to her? He just accused her of being a nosey bitch? He just... he just yelled at her?

She couldn't believe her ears.

He flinched at the lost look in her eyes, and immediately felt sorry for what he said.

He wanted to take it back now.

He stretched his arm out, reaching for her, as if she was fading away from him.

His eyes were wide in fear; his mouth slightly agape in shock; his body numb. He immediately tried to mend their relationship.

"Ally, I'm – "

"Shut up!" she exclaimed, interrupting his apology. "Just shut up and leave me alone."

"..."

"I don't want to see your face." _Flinch._

"I don't want to talk to you." _Horror._

"I don't want to forgive you." _Fear._

"I don't want you in my life anymore!" _Grief._

Each statement was like a nail being driven into his heart.

He stopped all activity.

His breathing came up short.

His arm froze in midair as soon as the words reached his ears.

_What?_

She _didn't _want to see him anymore?

She_ didn't_ want to talk to him?

She _didn't_ want to forgive him?

She _didn't_ want him in her life anymore?

She _didn't _want to associate with him?

She _didn't_ want him?

The words... they were hard to comprehend.

It felt like everything was moving in slow motion.

He could almost see his whole life collapse with his foolish and brash actions.

What did he do?

What the _hell_ did he do!

WHAT THE _**FUCK**_ DID HE DO?

"Ally." She refused to look at him, to make eye contact (She knew that, at one glance, she would fall into a deep abyss, and all common sense would leave her. He had this ability over her to make her fall under him and do what he wanted her to do. She wouldn't let him be in control. She wanted to be free. She wanted to be free from this heartache. She couldn't take the pain anymore. She had to stay strong – for herself, for him. She wouldn't be his puppet anymore; she was her own self.).

"Ally!" She flinched and bit her lip, hard.

"..."

"No." He whispered. (_Yes._)

"No!" he stated, a little louder than before. (_Yes!_)

"NO!" (_YES!_)

"I won't – I need you!" She shook her head in denial.

"No. You need to let me go."

"Don't leave me! I just got you back, too!" he pleaded. She turned her back on him and hugged herself, as if she were falling apart (a part of her mind wandered and questioned herself, _'I just got you back, too?'_ Those words, they were like... like there was much more depth to it than she really thought it was. Like he was suffering before the morning phone call incident... like he suffered in the past... She pushed the thought back, further, into the corners of her dark mind.) As if she loosened her grip, she would fall apart immediately.

As if she was dying a little on the inside.

"Go, Austin," she whispered. He shook his head.

He moved closer, and wrapped his arms around her waist, refusing to let go.

"No. I'm sorry," he murmured, refusing to give up on her just yet. She bit her lip and shut her eyes tightly. Her arms tightened themselves around her, instinctively. She shook her head, back and forth, refusing to collapse under his pleading.

"Austin, no, please."

"Ally, don't." He held on tighter, refusing to let her depart from him again (He wouldn't allow for that to happen. It happened once – it won't happen again. Never – not if he had a say in it.).

He turned her around, and leaned down, burying his face into the top of her head, in her hair. He mouthed words on top of her head, not speaking (just mouthing words like 'sorry' and 'Ally'.)

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he chanted, hoping that she would relent.

And then the dam broke.

She buried her face into the side of his neck and sobbed, letting her tears spill freely.

Her control was lost – she knew, instantly, that she had fell to his charm (once again; like she always did. It would never change. It would always be like this – always. No matter how much they grow up. No matter how much they change. No matter what.).

He just held on to her, murmuring 'sorrys' and 'forgive mes' into her hair.

Then, she pulled away, dry tears streaks marring her beautiful pale face.

"I forgive you," she finally murmured, as soon as her tears resided, and she stopped hiccupping.

He smiled lightly, and crushed her against his chest again.

Screw the concert.

Comforting Ally was much more important than that.

The concert in Orlando could wait – what's another hour? (Nothing.)

Or, better yet, he could just cancel the whole damn thing.

"I love you," she whispered, barely audible.

Whether or not he heard her, he didn't respond.

...

Strike One.

Two more strikes and you're out.

...

* * *

**A/N: **

Strikeeeee one!

A little shorter than the last chapter... eh. Oh well. An update is an update.

But, did anyone see the hints? (I'm not going to give everything away – you guys need to find out too. Some foreshadowing here and there – just find it, and piece together the clues and 'bam!', and might understand where this story may be going.)

Kay, so you see how badly he's been morphed? He's so... "diligent", isn't he? (Haha! Yeah right!) He's always so attentive of Ally's needs and wants, and his fan's wishes and needs. See how ruthless Austin is now (I actually think he's the sweetest guy on any show I've ever seen, but for the sake of this story, let's go with Darkstin! (Ross is really nice, too!))? Okay, so that was a nasty fight. But, trust me, the next two fights are going to be worse than this one – wayyy worse (or at least in my terms...). But, Ally, as kind as she is, forgives the guy just like that (But remember; ch. III – 3 strikes and you're out!).

Now that's what I call love. What do you call that?

Updates range from 5-12 days. (May not be an update next week due to school related issues... (mainly a project) just an FYI for anyone if I don't update on time.)

More reviews = Faster updates! (More reviews appreciated! Pleaseee?)

Follow me on twitter for occasional updates and usual idiocy! My user is (at) KairiR5! :)

Drop me a line? (:


	5. Strike Two

**Summary:** He messed up in the past; now she belongs to someone else. One fateful wish may be all he needs to win her back. He had one last chance. He better not screw it up a second time. Auslly, AU.

**A/N: **Chapter five? Oh my gosh! Such a quick story (Am I moving too quick, or what?)! Only three more chapters – at least I'm almost positive there will be only three more to go and then we're done. Check out my other stories, if you're free for some more Auslly stories... I may right a Trez story some time in the future – not now; I'm trying to wrap up this story at the moment.

Darkstin, Drunkstin and Sweetlly in this chapter! (Dark; Drunk – Au/stin; Sweet – A/lly)

**Warnings**: OOC, Not beta'd, swearing/language (Mostly Austin's fault. _ (F-bombs! Be warned!)), mentions of sexual things... (i.e. one night stands), etc.

More reviews = Faster updates! (More reviews appreciated! Pleaseee?) P.S. Thanks for the reviews so far! 18 more and we'll hit 50 reviews! Awesome! :D

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Austin&Ally. I wish. But, no.

* * *

**CH V:**

S. T. R. I. K. E. T. W. O.

* * *

He strummed his guitar in concentration with a poker face.

His mind was going a million miles a second, but his fingers were moving on their own – on autopilot.

He was too busy worrying about his first mistake with Ally to really put effort into the concert he just performed for earlier in the day.

It was during the concert when he had really noticed it.

Something was wrong.

He had, defiantly, tried his best (put his all into it) to prevent any mistakes and the gape, which formed between them in the past, to get even wider.

But, somehow, it happened.

It happened, alright, and he didn't know what to do to prevent anymore mistakes.

It was like he was a drug addict, and making mistakes were his cocaine.

He couldn't stop no matter how much he willed to.

That was his first strike, and if he messed up two more times, she and him would be through – forever.

Forever.

For-fucking-ever.

No more forgiving – no matter how many times he apologized.

Everything had its good aspects and its bad aspects.

And that was the drawback of life.

'You only have one more chance, Moon! Don't mess up again! What is wrong with you? I thought you promised to mend things with Ally! You're doing a horrible job, dude! What a "mending" process you're doing. How much work you're putting into fixing this broken relationship! ...More like breaking! More like destroy what little fragile relationship you guys held. Might as well just give up. If this is how you're going to go through; might as well just give up and let it happen, just like it will in the future.'

He frowned.

He was messing it up big time, wasn't he?

He was ground for termination.

It would be like the future he had come from, originally.

What was the point of giving him another chance when he didn't fix his mistakes!

It was like going through agony all over again!

Fuck this!

Fuck this whole ordeal.

He sighed, exhaling heavily through his nose. He ran a tan hand through his unruly bed head hair.

After tossing and turning for hours, he had decided to 'fuck it' and just do an all-nighter, practicing his music and all while he was awake (Briefly, he had acknowledged the fact that he was neglecting his musical career, but he pushed the thought away and focused on much more important matters – Ally.).

Music calmed him. He always relied on music to keep him cool and collected.

But at the moment, it wasn't doing much for him. Instead, perhaps, quite the opposite.

He was so fucking stressed out!

What the hell was going on with him?

He wasn't trying to get her to be pissed off at him further!

But, yet, he did just that.

It was like, if she said something that offended him just a tad bit, something inside of him would snap, to be triggered, and he would release his anger on her.

He was screwed over by the whole fucking situation.

And then his phone rang noisily on the table counter, breaking his train of thought.

**RING.**

He frowned at the intrusion of his thoughts.

His eyes wandered towards the table counter. He looked wearily at the mobile device as it continued to ring.

What the fuck?

Who was calling him now?

It was one in the fucking morning!

If he weren't awake at the moment (because of stress) he would be sleeping right now. Blame it on his mind, which was going billions of miles an hour, thus his lack of sleep.

But damn it! Just because he couldn't sleep and he was awake didn't mean someone could call him at the moment.

He grumpily strode over to the counter and retrieved his cellphone, cellphone, checking the ID carefully before answering the caller. (He had learned his lesson with Ally the former day. He nearly lost her for his brash behavior that day, damn it! Now, he's more careful about checking IDs and callers; making sure that he knew exactly whom was calling him before responding.)

It was Mike.

Mike was a friend of his. He partied alongside Mike, when given the time (which was frequently, he admitted with a bitter attitude). They bonded as friends at several celebrity parties in the past, and the rest is history. They often drunk together to get rid of the stress they accumulated during the week.

"Hello?" he answered, picking up the call.

"Yo, Moon!" His mouth quirked up slightly at the cheeriness illuminating off of Mike's response.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Nothin' much. Life's; that's all there is. And life goes on, ya know, no matter what hardships we face." He had a point; it was logical.

"Yeah, you're right. You can say that again."

There was a pause.

"You wanna tell me why you called at one in the fucking morning? Some people maybe – should be – asleep."

"You're not awake, man." He was right again.

Fuck him.

Music boomed loudly in the background.

He furrowed his eyebrows in contemplation.

It was loud.

And Mike wasn't alone.

Mike was at some crowded place, so it seemed. Perhaps a bar or a nightclub or something.

"Dude, where are you?" he asked.

"At a bar." And then he hard moans coming from the speaker. He pressed his lips into a thin line at the sexual innuendo. He didn't want to hear any of that crap!

He heard Mike mumble to someone (a girl, most likely) to knock it off (the moans and the sexual innuendo, damn it! No one wanted to hear that shit but creepers!). He could honestly imagine Mike at the bar, leaning on a chair with a sexy girl on his lap, engaging in sexual contact (He knew Mike was a playboy, but this was pushing it...).

"Sorry 'bout that, man," Mike finally answered, coming back to the speaker. "Maya here was very... very hormonal at the moment. She won't be expressing that anymore. At least not out loud. She's just... she just wants some." Mike moaned into the speaker.

He made a face at the sound. (_'She might not be making noises into the speaker, but that doesn't mean you won't, asshole!'_)

Fucking disgusting.

He _really_ didn't want to hear that shit.

"Dude."

"Yeah?"

"Shut the fuck up. I don't want to know – no; hear – about your sexual life. In and outside of the bedroom."

"Hmph. Someone seems stressed out. Someone's not getting some from his girlfriend." He growled warningly into the speaker. ("Don't push it, fucker", he bit out, warningly.) "How 'bout you come down to the _'Eclipse'_ bar in downtown and drink your night away, to release some stress, if you know what I mean." There was a slight pause before he continued. "Or, maybe, perhaps, fuck some whore, slut, or something."

He paused at the suggestion.

"So you up for it, man?" Mike repeated.

He paused, contemplating on whether or not to take up that offer.

He was faced with a dilemma.

Stay home and continue brooding with his music, or go to the club and party like a maniac until he's drunk as hell. Head on down and party all night, or stick at home, doing nothing but play his music.

At first glance, it may have seemed that the first option was a bunch of bullshit, and the latter was the oblivious choice, but something kept him back from agreeing to go.

That something was Ally.

And why might she matter so much?

Ah, yes – maybe she's his girlfriend and all, but it's much more than that.

It was the fact that he truly respected her, and he wouldn't want him to go and accept the invitation, especially with another concert the next day, early in the morning, too (He kept in (the back of his mind – the corner, where he never ventures) mind that she hated it when he partied, especially when he had a concert the next day.).

And then something quite logical hit him.

But since when did he let something like that stop him from pursuing what he wanted?

Never.

Example (thesis): when his dad told him he had a billionth to zero chance to make it in the music industry, he ignored him and preserved, going on his way to becoming the huge music star he is today.

And all because he disobeyed his father and kept pursuing his dreams.

Exhibit two (supporting argument): when he played Troy, in Dez's movie, _Claws, Dun, Dun, Dun_, his fear of umbrellas didn't stop him from finishing the film.

And he helped Dez get into the film festival he's been dreaming of since forever – since he was a kid (and broke his fear of umbrellas).

Conclusion (concluding statement): When he saw Ally with Dallas, his fear of rejection, and the possibility of a broken friendship (and the small chance of her breaking off her job as his songwriter) didn't hinder him from asking her out.

And because of his sheer will and determination, she was now his girlfriend.

Because he stayed strong willed, he got to where he was today. He accomplished what he wanted – he got what he wanted.

And that's why he accepted Mike's invitation to some drinking and partying at one in the morning (and ignored Ally's wishes to not drink, especially at his age).

:::

He laughed at the situation.

He honestly didn't know why he laughed.

There really wasn't anything funny about the situation.

Maybe he was too drunk that his common sense evaporated.

Maybe he was high on life.

"Dude," Mike said, "I think you had you much alcohol."

The fuck? His eyes wandered to his friend, dazedly.

He managed to muster up a mock glare.

"Since when is too much, too much?" Mike snorted in response, giving his put.

"Normally, I wouldn't give a shit about how much alcohol you consume, but since you have a concert later today, I'm warning ya for the better." He paused, before adding another logical statement. "It wouldn't be cool to play a concert with a hangover, no? Especially with all the loud music, screaming, and bright lights." Mike psuedo-winced, mocking almost. "Not a good combo for recovering from a hangover the size of fucking Texas."

"Who gives a fuck?" he muttered, taking another swing of his beer, as if he hadn't heard Mike's supporting arguments (Mike was right, but he didn't give a shit.).

Mike shrugged.

"Ally does (and maybe you should, too), but whatever. It's your choice, not mine. If you get a massive hangover, don't say I didn't warn ya."

"Fuck you," he sneered. Mike raised his hands in defense.

"Dude, lighten up a bit." ("I am, so shut the hell up.")

"Another beer!" he demanded, shooting daggers at the bartender. He shriveled at the vile expression, before mustering enough courage to mutter,

"Coming right up..."

...

It was a long night.

Drinking beer, dancing like hell, crappy singing, some drug usage, etc.

But that didn't really matter to him.

Who knew what the outcome of this night would bring?

...

He stumbled out of the nightclub, heading down the road to somewhere to rest for the next few hours.

It was six in the morning.

And he had a concert in two hours and he wasn't sober. He was still drunk. It was a surprise that he didn't get hit by a car (but he heard car horns around him as he stumbled down the streets to his destination).

Perhaps the concert would be cancel, due to his lack of soberness (most likely it would be canceled).

His feet moved automatically, heading to a random location, one that he couldn't depicter at the moment, due to his lack of soberness.

When he finally stopped, he looked up and came face-to-face with an apartment house.

It was on 16 Sunset Street.

It was a very familiar house.

He recognized it immediately – sober or not.

He didn't have a key.

He stumbled up the stairs and rang the bell – once, twice, a few times, a dozen times, a hundred times.

No response. There was a loud noise coming from inside the house. There were stumbling, cursing, groaning, moaning, complains coming from the interior of the house. (Feet stomped down the stairs. He could hear complains and cursing, curtsy of the resident)

He rang again, and again, and again. He slumped against the doorframe for support (he didn't want to fall).

And then the door was thrown open, revealing a familiar girl.

She looked livid and tired.

But, she was still beautiful.

"Austin Moon!" she shouted.

Her eyes turned red in anger.

"What are you doing here..." she looked inside her house, looked at a clock, and continued shouting, "...at six in the morning!" He stumbled to her, into her.

She flinched as he stumbled into her body. Her arms immediately went out to steady his body. And then she was taken aback as she smelled him.

"Did you consume alcohol!" she exclaimed. "Austin!" He just leaned against her, not responding to her questions – she was his only support (for now, or for his whole life, he didn't know.).

"Ally," he mumbled. She ignored him.

"How could you, Austin! You have a concert in two hours! _Two_ hours! You _can't_ play_ drunk_! You're crazy – after all the times I told you not to drink on the day of the concert – before the concert. No drinking, in general! How could you ignore me like that! I warned you over and over again! I want the best for you, damn it!"

"Ally," he mumbled. She continued ranting.

"Drinking is bad for you! It kills your brain cells! Don't do this, Austin! Do you know how bad alcohol is for you – for your health – physical and mental? And how did you get here, drunk? Did you walk here? Did you hitch a ride? Huh? Did you go to a bar? A nightclub? What about a - "

"Ally!" She looked at him with fear in her eyes at his outburst. "Shut up." Her eyes widened. Her lip quivered at his rebuke.

"Au-Austin..." Her eyes darted to the ground immediately in embarrassment and because of the lack of words. He ignored her, tilted her head up with his hand, and pushed her head towards his, locking their lips together.

She shook her head; tasting bits of the alcohol he had leftover in his mouth. ("N-no-mmph!") She struggled to push him off her.

He didn't budge. All he wanted was to release some stress, anger*.

Then, he pushed her inside of her house and shut the door, locking it behind him.

...

He was asleep.

She looked at his face as he slept.

He looked so innocent... so childish... like his old self.

It hurt to see him change like this.

Why must there be a price to fame and fortune? (Of course – there were pros and cons of everything in life – money, fame, and fortune were some of the worse things out there.)

She bit her lip. Her hands came up to her mouth to muff her sobs.

He was making so many mistakes.

He was changing – getting worse, even... it was terrible.

She didn't like this Austin.

She missed her Austin – the carefree, loving, funny, and responsible Austin.

Not this alcoholic, selfish, changed Austin.

Would he continue to change?

For the better? For the worse?

She rolled over, moving away from him.

It was insane.

This world is insane.

...

Strike Two.

One more strike and you're out.

Be careful; you're trending on dangerous grounds.

...

* * *

**A/N: **

Sorry about the crappy update schedule. I legit had no time last week. School has been harassing me (not literally) to spend more time on my schoolwork and focus more on my grades. My teachers are piling projects after projects on my shoulders already (They're trying to cram last minute information into my head before the year ends, but I swear, the teachers are conferring with one another with ways to torture students!), never relenting –ugh!

*FYI - _**NO**_, I repeat again, _**NO**_, (take note of the emphasis on the _**'NO'**_!) he did not rape her. D: He's just drunk and he just wanted to kiss her to make her shut up, okay? No rape, no unwanted consent from him... yeah? OK? Well... there you have it. Now you know Austin's an alcoholic, too, on top of all that crap. And he's disobeying everything now – breaking the rules and ugh! I dunno why I'm making him like this... D: Well... it'll turn out for the better – promiseee! :D Oh yeah, Ally has another apartment... because she doesn't exactly share a house with him – only temporarily, sometimes... Uhmm... She makes many references to how much she misses his innocent, right? Understand that Ally stays true to herself, and doesn't let anything change her, right? Take note of that. ;)

Since my school year is wrapping up (3 more weeks – woohoo!), I'm hoping to be able to finish this story. And after this story, I have another story planned out already, so look out for that! :D

Updates range from 5-12 days.

Follow me on twitter for occasional updates and usual idiocy! My user is (at) KairiR5! :)

Drop me a line? (:


	6. Strike Three

**Summary:** He messed up in the past; now she belongs to someone else. One fateful wish may be all he needs to win her back. He had one last chance. He better not screw it up a second time. Auslly, AU.

**A/N: **But, man. This is horrible. _Horrible_. I'm sorry. I'm_ so_ sorry for those of you who are reading this, and for those of you who are really disappointed in Austin. FYI – this will be worse than the last two combined. ;-; No flames, please? (This chapter is a little repetitive of chapter 3 – but at the same time... different... BUT, it's long. WICKED LONG! Double – triple! – the size of what I normally write.)

Darkstin, Drunkstin (Dark; Drunk – Au/stin)

**Warnings**: OOC, Not beta'd, swearing/language (Mostly Austin's fault. _ (F-bombs! I warn!)), mentions of sexual things... (i.e. one night stands, uh... other things... I dun wanna give anything away), etc.

More reviews = Faster updates!

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Austin&Ally. I wish. But, no.

* * *

**CH VI: **

S. T. R. I. K. E. T. H. R. E. E.

* * *

'_Damn,'_ was the first thing that went through his mind. Even while asleep he mustered up the ability to think.

The sunlight glared furiously on his face, rousing him awake with its brightness.

His brain pounded furiously in his skull, even when he was still slipping in and out of consciousness.

He could still feel the pain from the hangover he accumulated from over drinking alcohol a few hours ago; it had yet to subside.

His eyes twitched, attempting to open, but the searing pain that coursed through his skull prevented such actions.

He groaned and rolled over so that his face would be sheltered from the bright sun (curtsy, with the aid of his pillow)...

...Only to roll over the edge of the bed and straight to the floor, face planting with an _'oomph!'_ escaping his lips.

He cursed as soon as his face made contact with solid ground.

"Fuck!" (Fuck my luck.)

Shit.

Shit!

SHIT!

He rolled onto his back, on the floor and slowly opened his eyes – slowly from narrow to wide, with his arm raised to protect his eyes from the early brightness of the sun.

His sensory organs were being burnt from the mere contact of the bright light (metaphorically speaking, pain wise).

'_What the hell?' _was the first coherent thought he mustered up once his mind was open, fully awake.

What was the fucking time?

He quickly adjusted to sunlight and decided to sit up.

He quickly got into a sitting position to contemplate, only to flinch in retaliation, and move his hands to cradle his pounding head.

"Shit!" he cursed. "What the hell happened last night?"

He groaned and massaged his temples, letting out another string of curses. His eyes fluttered close on instinct.

Mike was right – massive hangover the next day.

Fuck him (He brooded, not liking the fact that Mike was right, for a change, when he normally was wrong. He had two words for Mike: Fuck. You.).

"Here." His eyes snapped up from his position on the floor and saw her with a glass of water in her hand, as well as a dose of medication – aspiring – _Tylenol _– most likely.

When (and how) did she get there?

He must have been too busy cursing his friend, Mike (maybe not anymore, he grumbled), and his so called "good" choices (of drinking and partying) that he hadn't heard her enter the room (or, possibly, she was already in the room while he was asleep... and witness that whole ordeal with the face planting).

She strode over to him and handed the God-given lifesavers (_LIFESAVERS! _Hallelujah to whoever invented Tylenol!) to him, to which he took greedily.

(She ignored making eye contact when handing the much needed "hangover cures" to him, he noticed obnubilated.)

Once he had consumed the cool water and taken the medication for his hangover, he looked up at her in gratefulness.

And then he stopped, abruptly as realization hit him square in the face; like cold water dosed on him after a long night of sleep.

How should he address this situation? (Wasn't – isn't – she mad that he was out drinking and partying – especially with a concert in due time?)

He decided to use carefully chosen words (_'Think – think before you speak, Moon!'_).

"Morning Ally." Let's start with that. She raised an eyebrow at him, to which he grimaced.

Oh damn.

She wasn't that mad, was she? (Knowing Ally, if she were mad, she would give the silent treatment to him, to which he suffers, the most. The "Silent" treatment was a bunch of bullshit. It did nothing but torment him until he apologize – source: past examples.)

(But, on the bright side, he was feeling better! The aspirin had finally kicked in (fairly quickly, too, if he would say so himself)).

"..."

"Ally?" She pressed her lips into a thin line.

And that's when he finally noticed it.

The change of scenery.

The strange room he found himself in.

He looked around the room, scanning it thoroughly; to make sure that his eyes weren't deceiving him.

They weren't.

He was obscured as hell.

He was not in his apartment – in his room... he was in different environment.

"Where are we? We're not in our house."

(She briefly clamped her mouth shut to keep from blurting out that they barely – they don't – live together, much, if at all. Sure they brought an apartment together, but that didn't mean they liked living together. It was rare to see them in a same house – and even more rare to see them sleeping in the same bed (not sexually).)

"No, you're not. It's my apartment," she answered, simply, finally speaking up for the first time since she handed him the cup of water and aspirin.

As a matter of fact, this was the first time he had found himself in her apartment. Prior to today, he had never entered her house, her place of peace – her sanctuary. He had been outside of her apartment, and once every blue moon, he would find himself in her living room or kitchen, but other than that, he was clueless about how she lived, and the condition she lived in.

Pause.

Their eyes locked, speaking to one another silently.

He pinpointed that she was emotionless from the mere contact of eyes – she lacked emotion, emotion was something she had, more than needed of (at least until he changed...), normally.

It was as if they had a conversation between them through the mere contact of eyes; of course, without the words, however.

"Ally?"

"Austin," she whispered, heartbrokenly. He winced at the pain in her voice. (He was the cause of it. He caused everything negative in her life, in the last 5 years. It was all his fault, damn it!)

"Ally," he reiterated, trying to keep a bright and calm tone. She bit her lip, and turned her head away, abruptly, breaking eye contact.

(She feared that looking into Austin's eyes would make her spill her tears – her fears. She didn't want that. She wanted to hold herself together. No falling apart. No. He won't make the third mistake.)

"Where were you last night?" she asked, knowing clearly where he was a few hours ago, but only wanted to hear it from him (to prove that he wouldn't lie to her – that he was an honest man – that she could trust him, no matter what).

"..." He looked at her, begging her to look at him. She bit her lip. "I was out."

"Where?" she enounced, more loudly, wanting real honest answers. (Now she was fearful. She was afraid that he would break her trust, and lie to her. _'Believe in him. He won't lie to you. Just trust him,' _she chanted to herself. _'He won't fail you. He's honest. He's an honest man.')_

"No where," he lied.

And then the dam broke inside her.

Her tears started falling, like a crack in a dam – water was spurting out of her eyes, quickly.

He had lied to her.

(_'I can't trust him anymore. He's changed too much. I can't change him. This is permanent – this change. What happened to him? He doesn't need to lie.'_)

"Liar!" she shouted, whipping her head to face him – eyes locking once again.

He flinched.

"Ally – "

"You lied!"

"I wasn't," he defended.

(It was half true – he was "out", like he told her. He just didn't tell her where...)

"I know you've been drinking last night, don't try to lie!"

"..." He had no response to that; it was completely true.

"I know be-because you came to my house and r-rang my doorbell at six in the morning to let you in to get some rest, after a night at the club or a bar or something!" He opened his mouth again, only to be cut off once more. "Don't try to feed me these bullshit excuses. I'm tired. I'm tried of this."

"Ally..." he whispered, cautiously.

"Shut up!" she exclaimed. His head hung down in shame as his lies were thrown into his face. "I'm tired of this... I'm tired of these lies you throw at me. If you lied to me about this, who knows what else you lied to me about! This is strike two! TWO!"

He grit his teeth.

"You already broke my trust, twice, TWICE, in the span of two days, Austin. This is sad. This is a new record for you."

And then the ultimatum was put forth.

"If you make one more mistake, Austin, it's over. We're done."

She was losing her mind.

She was going insane.

She was afraid that she would end up like him.

She didn't want to end up like him.

He was insane, already.

They didn't need another insane person to add to the batch.

She's not going to relent.

He needed to prove his love to her, or else she had to leave him.

There was no need for an unnecessary heartbreak.

...

The words fell onto his shoulders painfully, in realization.

His head hung down in shame.

He lied.

He knew that.

But it was for a good reason – he didn't want to disappoint her. He knew that telling the truth would destroy her, knowing how much she hated him drinking, as such an age.

But, even so, his lies destroyed her even more, doing the opposite of what he thought would happen (She hated lies even more than knowing the painful truth).

"Ally," he restated her name, again, his words barely audible.

"I just want to know..." (He knew what she meant without her finishing her sentence, due to the fact that they knew each other for a long time, and the fact that they were in a relationship.) "...why you lied to me. Why the hell you lied to me!"

"..." He stopped to think. She was growing frustrated.

"WHY DID YOU LIE TO ME?" He moved his eyes to the ceiling in remorse.

"I... Ally... I knew that you hate it when I drink alcohol and party, especially before a concert. So I lied."

And she immediately snapped, retaliating.

"You lied? You lied? Why would you lie? You know that I hate lies – I hate the fakeness of the world – of the LA girls – like the fake boobs and ass and all that crap that girls have! I hate plastic surgery – it destroy you're natural beauty, like how lies destroy you – your beauty inside you.

"I don't like knowing that you drunk and partied before a concert... But I hate it more knowing that you lied to me. The worse thing you could do to me is to lie to me. And you clearly did that. The concert is off, either way. You missed it. It was over an hour ago."

"WHAT?" he nearly shouted. "Why didn't you rouse me awake?"

"Because you would have had a hangover, either way. You wouldn't even be able to perform," she laughed, mocking his suggestion.

"Ally!" he begged. "It was a mistake."

"Mistake? The only mistake here is my mistake of becoming your girlfriend, and giving you another chance."

That hurt.

That stung.

That hit him where it hurt the most.

"I thought... I thought that if I gave you another chance, you would redeem yourself. But... but look where that chance got you. What a redemption you proved to do!" she laughed, mockingly. (He briefly thought of his chance of redeeming himself with the extra chance he got from fate, from God. But he screwed up again.) "Why won't you ever learn!"

"Forgive me. Please."

"Shut up." He flinched at her cold tone. (She had never, _never_, told him to "shut up". She was the kind one of the four of them (Team Austin). That was him; if there was such circumstances, he would be the one to say "shut up", not her. It was a first. Everything was a first with Ally.) "I had enough."

And he complied to her wishes.

His mouth clamped shut, not knowing what to say. (She had enough of his bullshit. He feared this day would come.)

"I want you to get out." He looked at her, horrified.

Get out?

The fuck?

She wasn't serious was she?

"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!" she shouted, tears marring her flawless face.

(Did that mean that she wanted him out of his life – temporarily, permanently, or for the time being? That she couldn't look at his face without contempt coloring her emotions?)

"GET OUT!" He glanced up at her once more before trudging out of the room, and out of her home (and possibly out of her life... forever...).

He knew immediately that he had altered the future with his brash actions, and his one chance may be a mockery of him, instead of being his one ticket to redemption.

It was 12:00 p.m.

* * *

He punched the wall in a fit of anger.

Fuck.

Fuck!

FUCK!

He growled lowly, hanging his head down in anger – in shame. He began to shake slightly as anger coursed through his tall towering frame.

How could he mess up again?

He made a resolution of not make any more mistakes, and now look where he was?

He was on strike two!

It was a stupid decision on his behalf, to drink, and disobey her warnings; knowing of the consequences, he realized, a split second too late. (He constantly blames it on his inability to make good choices, because of his drunken state.)

But it was full of shit!

He was on strike two, and now he was trending on dangerous grounds.

One more fucking strike – one more damned mistake – and she's gone from his life, forever.

Forever.

F.O.R.E.V.E.R.

That's a long time.

He needed to get a grip!

He needed to let off some stem (which was exactly why he was punching the walls of his room like a maniac psycho, who escaped from a mental ward, or something. Punching something helped him release some stress, to be honest.)

He pulled out his iPhone to check the time, ignoring the pain that coursed through his broken and battered abused hands.

His eyes wandered to his phone.

7:56 p.m.

He had been wandering for hours, after being kicked out of Ally's apartment.

His hangover had subsided a few hours prior.

Now what?

He was feeling better, and he was bored as hell.

His concert was at 10:00 a.m., and he had woken up at 11:15-ish. His hangover had previously prevented his availability to perform, and to show up at the arena to play for the crowd (Originally, he was supposed to be at the arena at 9:00 a.m. for setting things up, so that also, was a factor that didn't bode well with him, and didn't exactly work out to his plans.).

His concert was rescheduled, in the end, for a later date.

(He was briefly guilty of betraying his fans like that – for letting them down by having the concert rescheduled, all because he had a huge fucking hangover. He imagined seeing his fans face – their disappointment highlighting their should-be joyous expressions. He imagined them (especially the kids, teens, and even the adults) eager for him to perform, because they loved to hear him sing, to hear his voice, which captured them and kept them in a rapt attention... only to come to a icy cold realization that he canceled on them. But he quickly dismissed that thought; their lives does not concert him. He had a life to worry about himself; another life to worry about on top of his own was a burden – an unnecessary addition.)

His phone screen flashed, immediately indicating that he got a text from someone.

It was from Mike.

He opened the message, and saw Mike enouncing – texting – that there was another party at the Midnight nightclub, another downtown club.

Midnight.

It was one of those popular clubs, he immediately recognized.

All the celebrities go there for some fun.

And there were the paparazzi hiding out there, to get the dirty scoop on the famous actors, singers, celebrities.

Oh how he fucking hated the paparazzi.

They made a big deal out of little things like forgetting to tip a waiter or waitress, or some sort of shit like that...

He pressed his lips into a thin line.

Should he or should he not.

The paparazzi were there, and he loathed them.

Go and face the paps or don't go, and not?

He was about to text Mike, _'Nah, thanks bro, but no thanks,'_ when he received another text.

His phone beeped again, announcing another text, and then he was convinced instantly with those four simple words to join Mike partying, on his partying escapades.

He slipped the cellular device back into his pant pocket and prepared himself to get ready for some hardcore partying and drinking.

'_It'll make you forget.'_

:::

He chugged down another bottle of beer.

He was at the 'Midnight' nightclub.

He took another swing of his bottle of beer.

His eyes darted to the corners of his eyes, and he saw them.

There were the paparazzi lurking around the nightclub, knowing that there would be lots of celebrities here on this particular night. It was obvious that they were looking for some juicy details on a celebrity so they can blog it, sell it, and make millions on other people's misery.

He hated them.

He hated how they warped the real events into something more disastrous than it really is. They blasted things way out of portion, he noticed, grimly.

He hated it.

He hated _fucking_ them.

It was a simple as that.

...

Who knew where Mike was.

They had met up in the entrance of 'Midnight', and took some hefty shots together, before having a nice conversation. After that, they split, and he hadn't seen Mike ever since then.

Mike was probably wandering off somewhere to look for a new girl to fuck, or something, or he was currently in the process of fucking a random girl, or he was drinking up a storm.

Currently, at the moment, he was at the bar, swinging shots after shots of beer.

"More vodka!" he demanded, loudly. He honestly didn't care if he was acting like an asshole or a demanding bastard.

He was drunk, and he was getting more drunk by the second as he continued consuming alcohol like his life depended on it.

"Coming right up," the female bartender swooned at the sight of him. He smirked and winked flirtatiously.

Ah, the perks of being a celebrity (ah fame) and being sexy as hell (like sin).

He needed his dose of alcohol.

He needed some comfort and tranquility from the immense pain he was suffering at the moment.

And alcohol provided such a coping strategy for situation like these.

That's why he needed alcohol.

Desperately.

He was about to leave.

There was not point. The alcohol wasn't even soothing his broken spirit. And the paparazzi weren't helping with his mood, either. In fact, they were doing just the opposite – they were worsening his mood.

"Hi," a flirty voice echoed from his right.

He turned his head to the side to inspect and confront the owner of the voice.

He squinted his eyes as the bright lights assaulted his vision.

He briefly made out the outline of the figure – it was a female. However, he could not make out her physical and detailed appearance.

"Hi," she whispered, once again, as if she was out of breath. Her voice was full of lust. He raised an eyebrow, but his lip quirked up in amusement.

"Hello." She blushed at his low and husky voice. She turned her head to the side, shyly, and smiled to herself.

"You're A-Austin Moon, right?" He raised an eyebrow.

"That's right. What of it?" He slowly opened his eyes to accumulate to the bright lights, and to take in her physical appearance.

...And then he truly saw her.

She was a brunette; her hair was long enough that it reached her shoulder blades and it was straight and shiny. Her skin was extremely pale like the moon, and it was flawless and was without blemishes or scars. She was wearing a dress that hugged her figure and showed off her curves, enhancing her figure. The dress was skimpy and strapless. It reached above her knees – only a few inches at most.

Ally.

Ally Dawson.

"Ally?" he whispered, shocked. What was she doing here? She wouldn't be caught here – ever. She hated parties; she rarely attended parties, too. She raised an eyebrow.

"Huh?" He looked at her. She looked different, but somewhat similar. Maybe he couldn't think clearly because of his drunken state. It was probably because of that. "Ally?" he repeated. His attention was on her 100% now.

What was she doing here?

Was she here to say she would forgive him? He would do anything to receive her forgiveness.

"Ally."

"Ally Dawson?" she asked, as if finally realizing his whole motive. He scrunched his eyebrows.

What was Ally talking about?

She was acting weird. Maybe she was drunk (But, why the hell was Ally Dawson drunk? She hated alcohol! He furrowed his eyebrows. Maybe she wanted to get rid of the stress she was facing – he consumed alcohol to get rid of his stress; maybe she did the same thing.).

"Yes." Who else would he be referring to? He only knew one Ally Dawson, one Ally, by the way.

"Ally Dawson?" He nodded in response. Her mouth widened, taking the shape of an 'O'. She shook her head all the sudden. "Oh. No. No, no. I'm Ali-" He cut her off.

"Ally; I know that. You're my girlfriend, after all."

"But I'm Ali-" She was unable to finish her sentence, again, because of him.

He was kissing her. She froze in shock, but gradually relaxed and got into the kiss. Her eyes fluttered shut in pleasure.

In the background, there were clicks of cameras coming from the paparazzi, but he ignored the noise in favor of kissing the hell out of her. (Screw the _fucking_ paparazzi! Why the hell did they need to take some pictures of him kissing Ally? It was normal for a girlfriend and a boyfriend to kiss each other! What was so special about a simple kiss?) He needed to kiss her – to get some contact with her after being deprived for days.

"Mmmhhh!" she moaned against his mouth. He was suddenly kissing her harder than ever; the kiss was bruising, even!

They broke apart after a few more seconds of sucking face. She was panting from the breath-taking kiss, while he was looking at her, eyes pleading, without any in takes of air.

"I'm sorry, Ally," he whispered, begging her to forgive him for his previous and brash actions from earlier today. "Forgive me."

"It's okay," she murmured, her voice sore from the kiss. He grinned in triumph. He pulled her to her feet, hugging her close to his body for a split second.

"I'm sorry. Let me show you how sorry I am." He tugged on her arm gently and playfully. "Let's go."

She looked hesitant for a second before nodding.

"Okay."

"Make me forget all my sins against you, Ally. Let me make it up to you, tonight."

"I will forgive you. Just show me how sorry you are." He grinned.

"I will; I plan to." He then pulled her behind him, so that she was trailing him (and to block her from the offending hands that were begging to make contact with her. Fuck them. She was his.). He pushed past the people who were blocking the exit of the nightclub, cursing the paparazzi that were taking pictures of him and Ally.

Fucking nosey.

They left the nightclub, halting a taxi to a hotel room.

...And the night faded into day.

* * *

He woke up with a killer hangover, again. (It was getting to become a regular basis that he would have a hangover every morning – every day, at least.)

It was morning.

How long has he been asleep?

He rolled over to his side.

He shut his eyes to recall what he did last night, when he finally remembered.

He left the nightclub, 'Midnight', with Ally, who was surprising hanging in the nightclub (It was extremely unexpected of her, but he didn't care. Ally was Ally. He loved her for her, not matter what flaws. No one was perfect, either way.). He wouldn't have pegged her as the type to drink, but then again, looks can be deceiving, and she may have changed a bit. But, the most important part of last night was that she forgave him. He only cared about that.

He wouldn't make any more mistakes; he swore.

He promises to keep that goal.

No more fucking mistakes.

She was important.

Not his needs and thoughts.

Hers.

Only hers.

He lost her in the past because of his selfishness. This time, he wouldn't let his selfishness get into the way of his happiness.

And last night, he made love to her.

He worshipped her body and she deserved it, every minute of it.

He opened his eyes and turned to face her. He saw her naked back (she was sleeping on her side, peacefully; her back facing his front); the blanket covered up the rest of her nude body. He was equally naked as she was, he realized instantly with the lack of warmth.

He moved to her side and moved the blanket away so that he could kiss her side, when he came to a cold realization.

His eyes froze on a particular image.

She had a tattoo. A rose decorated her pale back.

Ally didn't have a tattoo.

Icy shot through his veins in fear.

He was feeling dreadful.

He was afraid.

He abruptly got into a sitting position and focused on the wall straight ahead of him.

No. No. Nononononono.

He didn't sleep with a stranger.

He didn't have sex with a stranger.

He only had sex with Ally.

Only Ally.

She was the only one he ever had sex with.

...But she wasn't Ally.

He didn't make a move on her.

He didn't cheat on Ally!

He moved his head to the side. His eyes zeroed in on the hickies decorating her pale neck.

NO!

Nonononono!

He did not cheat!

He _did not fucking_ cheat!

He moved away, moving away from the body he came in contact with last night.

It was a dream.

A fucking dream!

He would not do this to Ally!

He's not a cheater!

He was a lot of things – but he wasn't a cheater!

_NO!_

He gripped his head in his hands as his head pounded in fear.

The figure on the bed shifted, obvious to his internal conflict. She moved her head a couple of times, a sign that she was slowly awakening, while he looked at her, eyes wide in shock.

He couldn't move.

He was numb.

She wasn't Ally!

There were obvious differences.

Ally was more beautiful. Ally was flawless and perfect in every way. This girl – whoever she was – whatever her name was – was different. Her nose wasn't as small as Ally's. Her face wasn't as delicate looking. She wasn't as pale. Everything. There were notable differences.

He didn't deserve Ally, but he needed her.

Desperately.

Slowly, the figure on the bed woke up and groggily got into a sitting position. He whipped his head to the side when he saw the blanket pooling to her waist, and revealed her naked abdomen.

"Austin?" she whispered, her voice was full of happiness and pleasure.

He hated it.

He hated how she was feeling so happy, when he was suffering on the inside.

He needed to question her for her motives.

Why did she do it?

"Who are you?" he snared, addressing sharply without a split second. She flinched at his raised voice.

He couldn't believe it.

This... stranger was a nuisance!

"Who are you!" he growled viciously when he had not heard a response from the stranger. She was silent for a few more moments.

"I-I-I-" she stuttered, nervously. He snarled at her and was tempted to curse her out (He wouldn't hit her. He wouldn't stoop so as to hit a girl. He had respect for girls, despite how stupid and immature they acted. No matter what vile act they had committed to him, he wouldn't turn into one of those sexist males. He wasn't like them. He would never be like them. He might, possibly, curse her, but not physical contact. No.).

"You're not Ally."

"I k-know. I said my name was Al-Alice, not A-Ally. Bu-but you kept on saying that I-I was Ally," she stumbled, trying to force her statement out of her.

"You should have tried to convince me harder!" he shouted, livid. She was so selfish and stupid! Extremely stupid!

"I-I..." she lowered her head, her arm brought the cover to her chest to cover up her shame. "I just... I have loved you for... forever, Austin. You're dreamy, talented, and you're prefect boyfriend material. I just... I just wanted you to love me like you love Ally. For you to see me in the same light you see Ally in. I envy her. That's why I tricked you... that's why I didn't try my hardest to convince you that I wasn't Ally. Because I wanted you to see me in the same light you see her..."

"Well that just makes me _furious_!" he exclaimed. "You're jeopardizing my relationship with Ally! What if she saw? What if she found out that I cheated on her? I hate what you did! This makes me hate people like you even more. You don't know me like Ally does. She's known me since ever. You probably only like my looks." His relationship with her was already crumbling, and this stranger was a catalyst in further destroying their relationship.

She looked away in shame.

"I-I... I'm sorry... but... I don't just like your looks. I like your personality and talent. I'm not a gold digger..."

"Sorry doesn't do shit. And don't you dare say you only liked me for my personality, because I know I have a horrible personality."

"It's not true!" He roughly pushed himself off the bed and slipped on his clothes in record time, ignoring her the whole time. "You may have changed, but you're still the Austin Moon everyone loves!"

"You're paying," he demanded, without room for argument. He stormed outside of the hotel room and somewhere secluded, to contemplate and devise a plan to keep the fact that he cheated on Ally (accidentally; not consciously) hidden.

She would leave him if she found out.

That would be the last fucking strike.

He growled and stomped away, hoping that there would not be a time that she would find out of his disloyalty to her.

:::

He cleared his throat, and attempted to remain normal, to act like he would normally do.

He was in front of Ally's apartment for their song writing session. He was early, for a change, and it was the first time in a long time that he had remembered their scheduled sessions.

He knocked on her door once he finished preparing himself for his encounter with her.

He rang the doorbell, also, incase she had not heard his arrival.

A few moments later, the door was opened gently and revealed his songwriter, Ally Dawson.

She looked normal. She acted normal. Nothing was different.

He almost sighed in relief.

She had not heard of his unfaithful act.

"Hi Ally."

"Come inside." He stiffened and attempted to remain calm, but on the inside, he was honestly scared as hell. She hadn't greeted him like she would normally. But it was a given, after all, she may – she was – still be pissed off at him for strike number two.

But, another thought assaulted him.

Did she find out? About his one-night stand with Alice?

How did she find out – how would she even know?

She was awfully calm, too...

Maybe he was overreacting.

Maybe she acted like this on a daily basis.

Yeah. Maybe.

He complied with her demand and stepped inside her apartment, following her to the living room. She motioned for him to sit down on her couch.

"Sit." Once he finished his complied to her wish, an awkward silence surrounded their atmosphere.

"What's up, Ally?" he greeted. She pressed her lips into a thin line. She turned her head away from him, avoiding eye contact, as if the sight of his mere face horrified her – as if she was suffering by simply looking at him.

She turned her back on him, and quickly – swiftly – left the room and left him alone for a brief moment. She walked so swiftly, that she was as fast as the speed of lightning, as if she was running away from the Devil himself.

He wondered where she went.

She returned a few moments later, with a magazine in hand, heightening his curiosity.

A magazine?

"What's that?" he asked. He looked at it in curiosity, and she grimaced at his curious looks.

"I was doing my usual grocery shopping, and I was heading home, when I passed by a magazine stand. There were lots of people surrounding the stands. New magazine shipments were being delivered, and everyone was hustling about the stand, begging to be the first to get the new issue.

"I was mildly curious to why people were buying it like madmen, and when everyone finally got their copy, I went to buy mine. I heard someone say your name... It was like any other magazine article, except for one thing. My eye caught something particularly interesting. And that's when I saw this headline." She paused, taking in a shaky breath. "I bet you would love this," she told him, devoid of any emotion. "Here, take a look," she said with fake enthusiasm.

She thrusted the magazine in his face and turned her back, clutching her arms together tightly.

And he began reading front cover; the headline.

'_Rockstar Austin Moon was seen exiting the '**Midnight' **club with Mysterious Girl, who looks just like splitting image of his current girlfriend. Is he cheating on his girlfriend, Ally Dawson?'_

Below the caption was a picture of him and Alice, exiting the nightclub from last night. In another corner, there was an image of Ally alone and secluded.

He swore quietly, to himself. He tossed the magazine on the ground, as if the mere touch of it were burning his hand. His slowly brought his eyes to meet Ally's, whose eyes were shut tightly.

His eyes became wide with worry at her reaction.

No.

NO.

NO!

Please. No. Just... No.

"Ally, I swear I didn't – " She uncrossed her arms, and raised a hand to stop him from rambling. Her eyes slowly opened and she looked him straight in the eyes, tears brimmed with tears that were threatening to spill over and about.

Her dark brown chocolate eyes were broken...

...Emotionless.

...Dead.

His heart broke.

He swore his heart stopped suddenly at her heartbroken expression.

"Austin. Stop." He stopped, mute at the mere pain filled expression of her face, and looked at her nervously.

"Ally?" he whispered.

She turned her back on him, clenching her hands tightly against her side.

He suddenly feared for what would happen next.

Ice shot through his veins.

He dreaded to hear what would happen next.

NO.

This wasn't going to happen.

She wasn't going to leave him!

She was his!

NO.

"Ally..." he pleaded.

She ignored his pleas, with an iron will.

She wouldn't budge.

She wouldn't forgive him.

She was staying true to her promise.

"_Let me make this straightforward: If you make three more mistakes, Austin, we're through, for good. No more forgiving you, no more relenting, no more lenient-ness. It's three strikes and you're out."_

This might – would (Would. Would. Would.) – be the last time they would communicate with one another.

She walked away slowly; her words hit his ears like concrete slamming into him painfully.

"It's over."

The door clicked shut as the deafening silence surrounded the room.

He went insane.

Then his whole world collapsed.

He felt like everything in the world exploded and was turned upside down.

He was mad.

The world has gone insane.

This wasn't true.

This was a horrible nightmare.

The future was morphed into something much worse than he lived.

...Than he imagined.

...

It was 9:06 a.m.

...

All hell broke loose.

...

Strike Three.

You're out.

You lost.

Good-bye.

...

* * *

**A/N:**

Well... Austin has just struck out.

What now?

... You'll find out in the next two chapters! (Oh, and sorry for the spelling and grammatical errors.)

Does this chapter live up to your expectations? I honestly was contemplating on whether or not Austin should have done drugs, cheated on her, or something more... severe than that... but yeah... I think – _think_ – it ended up awesome... whaddaya say? Honestly, yeah, I think Ally is a little... lenient on Austin, but let's see if he could make it up to her – and how (if he could... ;))... But now, she's not gonna relent anymore (or will she?), cause someone has to take a stand and show Austin the consequences of his actions, and how out of control he's getting (with fame & fortune).

Whoa – thanks for the reviews, guys! I really appreciate the comments (mainly, I love reading what you guys think. And last chapter, most of you guys thought Austin was a dickhead, and an asshole, maybe? O.o. Some of you thought it was a bit sad how Austin was falling harder each day... well... it's true – and it's reality. It's kinda like drugs – it's a hard habit to get rid of, and you find yourself doing stupider things each time.)

Updates range from 5-12 days.

Follow me on twitter for occasional updates and usual idiocy! My user is (at) KairiR5! :)

Drop me a line? (: (I wanna hear you're thoughts. This is one of the most... emotional chapters of them all – ch. 7 & ch. 8 are the next in line equivalent to this ch.)


	7. Misery

**Summary:** He messed up in the past; now she belongs to someone else. One fateful wish may be all he needs to win her back. He had one last chance. He better not screw it up a second time. Auslly, AU.

**A/N: **Weeeeell... I've read all your comments, and I was a little... intrigued... Sorry for the crappy editing. I'm really tired, especially after a week of exams, but I'm DONE! DONE with school! Woohoo!

Last chapter – not including epilogue! We're almost done, in two months, too! Awesome! We reached 50 reviews – 60! Woah! You guys are amazing! (Wanna try 75 reviews? Possible 100? That would be awesome!) Well... this chapter was extremely hard to write, and long-ish; shorter than the last, but longer than usual chapters. You'll get to see Austin's POV of this whole situation... you'll feel for him! ;) I'm still in an angst-y mood, so don't blame me for the overload of angst... thanks to watching Romeo + Juliet (1996). That was just horrible and crappy and so depressing. I mean, she woke up right just moments before he drank the poison, and DAMN! Are you serious? He should have called his name or something. GAH! I'm just so angry at the outcome.

Okay. I'm done ranting. Review! (:

Darkstin, Insanestin (Dark; Insane – Au/stin; )

**Warnings**: OOC, Not beta'd, swearing/language (Mostly Austin's fault. _ (F-bombs! I warn!)), mentions of sexual things, depression, etc.

More reviews = Faster updates!

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Austin&Ally. I wish. But, no.

* * *

**CH VII: **

M.I.S.E.R.Y.

* * *

Eternity.

It felt like eternity.

Seconds. Seconds ticked by, becoming minutes as he stared into darkness.

Minutes. Minutes passed by, morphing into hours.

Hours. Hours into days.

Days. Days to weeks.

Weeks. Week to months.

He couldn't breath.

He was immobile.

He attempted to move his hand, a finger at least, but he couldn't. He wasn't in control of his own body. He couldn't even open his mouth to shout for her to stop, to don't leave him like this, that he needed her desperately.

He stayed frozen in spot like a statue for what seemed like eternity.

His body ached all over, longing for that certain someone to be beside him (Ally. Ally. Ally.).

He feared that if he didn't do something quick, he would go insane – more than he could – was – at the moment. He would go insane with want and need. He would crumble and become nothing but a mere image of his former self.

Ally Dawson – she was the only factor in his life that kept him calm and collected. That kept him anchored to reality, and kept him from fading from life altogether.

Not Dez, his best friend who he trusted for the trivial things of his life, and for most of his life before he met Ally.

Not Trish, his manager and close friend who he formerly went to for guidance in situations in which he couldn't handle himself, and couldn't comprehend on what to do.

Not alcohol, which he used for escaping the reality of life, and the intoxication of fame.

Not drugs, which he took (from time to time) to relieve him of the pressure of life, and the expectations he had to uphold when being a famous celebrity.

Not some random girl, the one-night stands, he some times used to release his frustration on life.

Not parties, which he attended to let loose and let all his stress go.

Not his so-called "friends", who he hung out with to pretend to be happy with his current life.

It was only Ally. Ally who was the calming factor in his lonely, isolated, and fake life, one which he had no control over.

She was the anchor to sanity.

She made him act like a real person.

She made him real.

She was real.

Not the fucking stupid image conjured up by Hollywood; turning those average, everyday people, people like Miley Cyrus, Lindsay Lohan, and Brittany Spears; into something they're not.

Take him, Austin Moon, for example. He used to be a simple guy, with big dreams, who loved simple things like pancakes, stuffed animals, scary movies. Before he got a taste of fame and fortune, he was changed – all his morals were destroyed with simple intoxication of money and fame.

...But now, he was morphed into something he wasn't.

And he hated it so much. He hated being this way.

He wished he could go back to how he was before all this crap occurred.

He was now stuck in a complicated situation. He turned into an alcoholic, (some times) a drug addict, and he was now a cheater. It was plastered on every tabloid. Everyone knew of his wrongdoings and his mistakes that he made every step of the way.

...Of how he stepped away from reality to delusion, to idealism, to make-believe.

It was fucked up.

Tabloids... they had the ability – the fucking power – to change what someone really was to something they really weren't. They could change someone's reputation with one paragraph of words.

They had no fucking clue, so why the fuck should they meddle around in some business that isn't theirs?

Fuck off. (Oh how hated them. If it were possible, he hated them with every bone – every fiber – in his body.)

Ally.

Ally.

Ally.

AllyAllyAllyAllyAlly.

Only her. She was the only real person he knew. She was the only one who stayed true to herself – who stayed real.

She was realistic.

There hasn't been a one time in which she wasn't beside him – for him – whether they were fighting or not, she was always there for him. She would always forgive him and always go out of her way to satisfy him.

But... now... she was gone.

Forever.

All because of his fucking mistakes.

His savior was missing.

:::

...

[_It's like I live all alone but I know he's here everyday  
See his shoes, clothes, cologne but mentally you're fading away  
Broken all your guarantees and I'm like, damn that aint you  
You told me together we'd be forever  
Lately all we do is disagree over ** that aint cool  
Grab my bags a million times (but can't get to the point where I'm through)  
By the look of this, I'm in love with him  
And invested too much to lose, so I do whatever it takes_]

...

:::

He was fucked up.

He knew she would eventually give up on him and get tired of his inconsistent shit and crap everyday. It wouldn't take long for someone to get tired of this heartbreak that happened on a day-to-day basis, after all.

Hell, even he would be tired of this cycle, if he were someone else, but he couldn't stop, no matter how hard he tried to resist it. He wanted to stop, but his will wasn't enough consent to stop all stupid choices he made.

But he didn't expect her to leave so quick, and this early. Just because he believed she would leave him, it didn't mean that he wanted her to leave him.

No.

Never.

Not if he had a say in it.

He would find a way to get her back. He would find a way for her to forgive him. He would find a way for her to help him with these problems.

She gave him three more chances – if he made three mistakes, they were over for good, but he messed it all up, again. And that's how he lost her.

...It was just an addiction. (It, referring to his inability to make good choices, and his love for partying, alcohol, fame, fortune, all everything else that comes with being a huge celebrity.)

It was something that he couldn't control.

And that's how his life spiraled out of control without his consent.

...That's how he lost the love of his life: Ally Dawson.

:::

Seconds. Seconds ticked by, becoming minutes as he stared into darkness.

Minutes. Minutes passed by, morphing into hours.

Hours. Hours into days.

Days. Days to weeks.

Weeks. Week to months.

He collapsed internally.

His whole world fell before his eyes. She slipped from his fingers like water slipping through the cracks of his hands.

He was afraid.

He was afraid of the next outcome, afraid of the next events that were fated to happen.

He was afraid he would be locked up in a rehab for his mental insanity.

Déjà vu.

How could he mess up?

How could he have lost her again?

And after he just got her back, too! (He had only had her in his arms for five days. It was less than a fucking week! What the hell? How could he mess up like that?)

His life was collapsing.

He was slowly dying on the inside.

His heart was racing in worry. It was beating so fast that he was afraid that his heart would jump out of his chest and burst open, exploding all over the room.

His body was numb.

He couldn't eat. He would have thrown up everything he had eaten, anyways.

He couldn't drink. Water would have tasted stale and he would have assumed that it was poison for all that it was doing for him, only causing him to regret drinking in the first place, and plaguing him instead of quenching his thirst.

He couldn't sleep. Sleeping would only invoke nightmares, which would plague his dreams continually.

He was basically a living corpse.

His life was fucked up.

He couldn't control his actions.

Fate was fucked up.

He was given one more chance by fate, and fate just used him, played him, and laughed at his stupidity.

Fate was playing with him like a fucking game – like he was an instrument.

Fate wanted to give him another chance, so that he would mess up again in the end – to let him suffer by going through the same misery – the same hell – twice.

Why was fate so fucking cruel?

He was furious.

What the hell?

_What the hell_?

**WHAT THE HELL?**

Was someone – something – really enjoying and laughing at his predicament? Was this situation so funny that they had to make him go through the same hell twice?

It was fucked up!

He finally got a hold of his body movements and immediately did what he wanted to do in the beginning: release some stress, by punching something.

The wall, preferably.

He punched a wall viciously, never relenting in strength. He punched full force, full strength. He gave it his all, hoping that by punching the wall, his stress would dissolve into thin air.

Except, it didn't go as planned. He did get rid of some stress, but he also got pain pulsing through his right hand. He clenched his teeth together tightly, refusing to acknowledge the pain, and groan in agony.

Instead, stubborn as he was, he glared at the limb, threatening it to stop pulsing in pain. It would bruise, he could immediately deduct with one glance.

Pain was a sign of weakness, and he refused to show weakness.

:::

He wished he could take back all the mistakes he made.

Slowly.

Slowly.

He was being torn from the inside every second without her by his side... he was being torn knowing that Ally broke up with him.

...Why was fate so cruel?

Why was he so stupid?

He slipped into a deeper depression.

:::

...

[_Cause my morning cannot break  
Break until we get, get back to when  
Said I really wanna get back to when (I was your safe place)  
Cause my morning cannot break  
Break until we get, get back to when  
Said I really wanna get back to when (love was)  
I'll do it all over again cause I know right now what you mean to me  
I'll do it all over again if it makes your heart come running back to me  
Lover, do what it takes for us, just so we can get back to when  
Said I really wanna get back to when (love was)_]

...

:::

Seconds. Seconds ticked by, becoming minutes as he stared into darkness.

Minutes. Minutes passed by, morphing into hours.

Hours. Hours into days.

Days. Days to weeks.

Weeks. Week to months.

He was in the same position she left him in days before, except for the fact that he was now sitting on the floor, stiff.

He was starving, but no way in hell would he move from his spot.*

He was suffering.

He couldn't sleep.

He was depressed.

He was dying.

He had no contact with the outside world.

It was crazy.

How could one be so crazy about a girl who he had met only five years prior to the current day situation?

He slipped in an out of a depression.

No one was near him. He was ultimately alone in the apartment Ally and he shared... maybe not anymore. Maybe this was just his apartment now.

He stared blankly in front of him, at the empty wall.

His body craved for some food, water, and sleep. He was deprived of each necessity for living, but he couldn't go through with it, knowing that he would just suffer without her.

What's the point of living, if he couldn't live without her?

Beside him, his iPhone vibrated, notifying him of several text messages he received. His eyes wandered to the mobile device for a split second. He was a little hopeful that Ally would have texted him, but he doubted it.

His arm moved slightly and he held the device in his hand gently. He unlocked his iPhone and checked his messages, ignoring the pain that pulsed slightly through his hands upon the contact of pressure. What he saw didn't exactly disappoint him, but at the same time, didn't motivate and satisfy him.

It was Dez.

It was Trish.

It was Mike.

But, it wasn't Ally.

Why wasn't he surprised (not even a bit?)?

:::

...

[_I'd walk a thousand miles just get back to the time  
When we kissed, our love was never missed (now baby)  
You be running around, claiming you aint got the time for me  
Is there someone other than me, tell me (It's not what it appears to be)  
Ohh, that you would be untrue to me (you would be untrue)  
Because I can't, take that thought of someone else with my treasure  
I'll just lose it babe, so I do what it takes..._]

...

:::

He opened the messages from Dez, reading it, but not responding.

'_Yo, Austin, where are you?'_ No response from him; a few days ago.

Another one, sent two days later: _'Dude? You okay?'_ Again, no response from him.

'_You gonna answer me?' _He snorted weakly. _'Nope. Not answering.'_

'_Hey, well, I just wanted to tell you that if you ever need someone to talk to... I'm here. We're best friends, remember?'_ He smiled as soon as I read this text. It was sent early today.

Of course. Dez and he would always be best friends, no matter what. Dez always had his back, when they were younger they trusted each other for everything. Now, 10 years later, they changed and grew up, but they still had each other's back.

Then, he went on to read Trish's texts. This one was sent a few days ago.

'_Austin. What. Did. You. Do. To. Ally.?'_ His eyes widened and he reread it twice to make sure he read right.

"What?" he uttered, his voice sore from the lack of use. His fingers itched to type out a text message on his iPhone asking what happened to Ally, where she was, is she ok, and other questions similar to that, but he refrained himself from carrying out that deed.

After all, Ally was pissed off at him, and he didn't want Trish to know what happened to them. He quirked an eyebrow when he saw another message that dated a few minutes ago.

'_Austin. She's in pain, but she won't tell me. Whatever you did, you better make it right with her.'_ He frowned; his heart clenching painfully inside his chest.

:::

...

[_Cause my morning cannot break  
Break until we get, get back to when  
Said I really wanna get back to when (I was your safe place)  
Cause my morning cannot break  
Break until we get, get back to when  
Said I really wanna get back to when (love was)  
I'll do it all over again cause I know right now what you mean to me  
I'll do it all over again if it makes your heart come running back to me  
Lover, do what it takes for us, just so we can get back to when  
Said I really wanna get back to when (love was)_]

...

:::

She... she was in pain?

He... he was the cause of her pain? He snapped his teeth together and clenched down because he needed something to relieve the pressure, and so far that was the only option (since his hands were bruised and unable to handle any pressure given).

He hated himself all the sudden.

He hated hurting her.

She was not supposed to shoulder his burden. She was supposed to be carefree.

Ally Dawson wasn't a perfect person, he realized. She was prone to make mistakes, too; she was a human being, after all, and humans make mistakes. No one was utterly perfect, but honestly, he thought she would come, the closest.

Flaws and perfection. What was the difference? Everyone had both aspects.

She wasn't perfect, but she was near perfection (at least he thought so).

She had beautiful lips, which made him want to kiss her oh so badly.

Her eyes, her beautiful eyes... They were dark brown chocolate eyes that were very expressive, and made him melt and crave for her to stare at him and only him so that he could experience such emotions coming from them.

She had such a beautiful and flawless face. There were no blemishes or scars, and everything suited her magnificent face perfectly. Perfect nose, perfect lips, perfect eyes – perfect everything.

She wasn't overweight, and she wasn't underweight, either. She was the perfect size.

She was kind and caring, as well as compassionate and thoughtful. She took other people's feelings into consideration, and put their needs before hers. She was everything everyone wanted in a girlfriend, all rolled into one person.

...But she also had flaws, just like everyone else.

One thing: she had stage fright – a horrible case, too. Her stage fright hindered her from achieving her ultimate goal of becoming an amazing singer and world-renowned celebrity (But, in his opinion, it was better that she had stage-fright, because she wouldn't end up like him... like how he was now. How broken he was now...).

And also, she let people take advantage of her because she was timid, and was afraid to speak up. He knew he took advantage of her once upon a time, when he stole her song and used it. And then, after that, he had her write him another song.

What a douche bag he was!

She was weak, and she let people influence her decisions because of that aspect. He remembered when the time he sneaked a peek in her songbook, and she was so angry. Trish was present when she was pissed off, and she influenced her to take revenged on him... and the time he stole her song, Trish influenced her, yet again.

...No one was perfect, he concluded. But Ally was close – oh so close.

Him, one the other hand, was nowhere close to perfect. He was imperfect. So imperfect. Nowhere close to where she was on the scale of perfection and imperfection.

She was perfect in his eyes, and that's what counts.

:::

...

[_Love was, love was, love was (said I really wanna get back to when)  
Love was, love was, love was (said I really wanna get back to when)_]

...

:::

Seconds. Seconds ticked by, becoming minutes as he stared into darkness.

Minutes. Minutes passed by, morphing into hours.

Hours. Hours into days.

Days. Days to weeks.

Weeks. Week to months.

There have been several times in the past few days that he really spiraled into a horrible case of depression. While he was alone for three days, he had really contemplated hard, and he finally got a chance to think about things over as he stared silently at the wall before him.

His eyes were finally opened to the world, metaphorically speaking. He finally understood many things he had not before.

He had once thought about his past mistakes, and if he had one last chance, how he would make them all up, for sure. He promised that if he were given one last chance, he would resolve to make everything right. How he wouldn't make any more mistakes.

He had thought about being deprived of everything – fame, fortune, alcohol, drug, everything – and how he could survive without them.

He had once considered suicide to end all of this depression. (One day, he was running a finger over his wrist, feeling the veins pumping under his skin. He had seen knifes in the kitchen, and he was tempted to take it, to run it over his wrists, to see the blood ooze out of his skin (People always said that pain took away all problems, and he was tempted to try that theory), but something stopped him. A voice in his head kept on telling him to stop – to not do that, no matter what – and it sounded a lot like Ally. That would just mean that he was a weakling, that he couldn't face fear in the eye without whimpering and cowering. It meant that he couldn't man up and face all obstacles without determination.) What is a life without Ally? What was he without Ally? What would he do without her? How much did she mean to him?

And that led him to the next conclusion.

He thought about how this had been the very first time Ally had blandly ignored him in his time of need and turned her back on him. There has been no time, honestly, that she had ever left him alone.

This had been truly the first time he had been deprived of Ally.

He realized something important that day.

She meant a lot to him, and if he wanted her back, he had to be committed to winning her back. She was being tormented over and over by his brash mistakes and idiocy, and if continued this act, one day she might not be able to handle this entire burden and commit suicide or hang herself, or something.

:::

...

[_When our love was not pretentious, couldn't move us inches  
Now your miles away from me  
My strength is weak but I just hold tight  
Gripping on to dear life and its all for you to see  
That I do what it takes_]

...

:::

He finally grasped the concept.

He finally understood what he had to do to get her back. He knew that this had to count, to mean everything, that he had to put everything in it, or else she would forever disappear from him.

He got to his feet, stumbling slightly from the lack of food and water, leaning on the wall for support as he rose from the ground. He stumbled, trying to regain his footing.

Gradually, after a few more minutes, he stood up straight and stoned his expression with determination shining in his eyes.

"Ally," he chanted, reminding himself immediately of his goal.

'Ally, I'll make it up to you. Just give me one more chance. I won't fuck up again.' He grabbed a coat and slipped it on before entering the kitchen, heading to the doorway, and finally exiting his house.

He sprinted into the backyard, and to her apartment.

:::

...

[_Cause my morning cannot break  
Break until we get, get back to when  
Said I really wanna get back to when (I was your safe place)  
Cause my morning cannot break  
Break until we get, get back to when  
Said I really wanna get back to when (love was)  
I'll do it all over again cause I know right now what you mean to me  
I'll do it all over again if it makes your heart come running back to me  
Lover, do what it takes for us, just so we can get back to when  
Said I really wanna get back to when (love was)_]

...

:::

When he got to her apartment, he rang the doorbell, and pounded on the door loudly.

But she didn't answer.

She didn't attempt to tell him to go away and leave him alone or scream at him or anything.

She just left his life like that.

Silence.

She just walked out of his life, just like that.

"Ally," he groaned, pleading. "I know you're in there."

Silence.

"Come out, please. I need to talk to you." He contemplated, before adding, "It's urgent. I desperately need to tell you this."

Silence enveloped him.

It was choking him with pity.

But didn't want any pity. Pity was a fucking nuisance.

Fuck pity.

"Ally!" he growled. He pounded on the door, louder than before. Once his beating stopped, silence took over again, and he felt oddly strangled and alone.

She was truly keeping her words of not relenting in punishment. She truly was kicking him out of her life, like she was never present in his life in the first place.

Now she's just someone he used to know. (The song, _'Somebody I Used to Know,'_ by Gotye, rang loudly in his ears, prodding him, and telling him that that song may apply to his relationship with Ally, if he let this whole ordeal go on without explanations, or compromises.)

No.

He didn't want it to end like that!

No!

She was slowly fading away like a distant memory...

"Ally!" he pleaded, his voice sounding alarmed at the notion of her not being in his life – disappearing just like that. "Ally..." he whispered, his voice getting quieter with each second that ticked by. "Don't... just don't..."

All he heard was the sound of his harsh breathing.

He leaned his head against the door in failure, his forehead against the entrance.

He resigned hope.

It began raining; the rain pounding on his back and all over his body harshly.

It was raining so hard, and it was so cold.

"Ally," he mumbled, hopelessly, wishing that she would come out and speak to him, even if she was chasing him off, yelling at him, and telling him to, 'Fuck off,' or something.

Something.

Anything.

Just... he needed to know that she acknowledged his presence. He only cared about her opinion – no one else's matter so much as hers.

He weakly looked up at the sky, luring his gaze away from the door to the sky, in silence. He wondered to himself, curiously, if heaven was crying tears for him, or was heaven laughing at his predicament?

"I'll be back, Ally," he mumbled, promising her.

He pushed himself off the door and walked off.

'_I'll be back, Ally. I won't stop coming here and waiting outside of your apartment until you talk to me. At least once... I need acknowledgment – yelling, screaming, punching, kicking – anything. I need to know that you notice me. I need to know that "I'm not someone you used to know."'_

He slowly walked away from the apartment, delaying his departure.

He could just feel her (her and her presence).

He was attracted to her, like magnets being drawn to one another.

He felt her presence. He knew she was in there, because he just knew.

He felt it, and he knew she did, too.

He quickly looked over his shoulder one last time, to commit the image of her house to his memory, before he departed, when his eyes connected with another pair of chocolate brown eyes that were peeking through the folds of the window curtains.

When they made eye contact, her eyes widened in surprise, and she quickly pulled the curtains together, turning her back on him, startled.

He smiled briefly to himself.

Just briefly (After all, the storm hasn't passed yet. It was the calm before the storm, alright...).

She had acknowledged him (even if she didn't speak to him), and that renewed his dying hope.

And it continued raining.

And he wasn't sure if it was a good thing, or a bad thing.

:::

...

[_Love was, love was, love was (said I really wanna get back to when)  
Love was, love was, love was (said I really wanna get back to when)_]

...

:::

He had continually stood outside of her apartment, hoping that she would speak to him.

Sure she had acknowledged him in some sort, but that wasn't was special to him as his speaking to him.

He wanted – no, needed – to hear her voice, at least once, so that he could – would – sort this whole mess.

But she never gave him the chance, the opportunity that he had been hoping he would get, to do so...

A part of him – a little part inside of him – died every time she ignored him.

He had honestly ignored his concerts and his career altogether, in general. This had happened for one week without any arguments before he finally got back to his job, especially after Trish, his manager, and the companies that funded his concerts, had sternly warned him about his impending collapsing career. (They had told him (lectured him, morel like it) that he needed to focus more, or else his fans would abandon him. He was just lucky that they haven't, yet. Yet being the key word.)

And then one day he was performing at concert stadium located near the Mall of Miami (where his whole career began; where he first met Ally. He unconsciously smiled.), just a few miles from the shopping destination.

He found himself bringing up his mistakes, and addressing them to his fans that day. Maybe it was because his memories of his past self was bubbling up from playing near the Mall, where it had all began.

"To my fans: I just wanted to apologize for my behavior for the past few years as I was rising up to stardom." Silence filled the arena, but he continued his speech, taking it as a good sign. "When I dreamed of becoming a singer, I dreamed that I would stay the same and be the best there is.

"But, once I got the taste of fame and fortune – the luxurious life – I just changed. It just got to my head, so to speak." He looked at his fans in the eye, silently pleading them that he was sincerely sorry. "I'll admit, it got way out of hand this year, as well as the previous. I started drinking, and doing drugs, and I may have cheated – accidentally – on Ally, my one, and only, true love.

"I never realized how out of control I got, back then, until it was too late. My stupidity and obliviousness, as well as my inability to keep promises, caused me to lose Ally, my heart, my soul." He smiled sadly.

"Not only have I don't that, but I have disappointed my fans – you guys, who have been with me through my whole life, as I rose to stardom, and fame." He looked down in shame, but continued speaking. "My single most goal as a singer was to impress and please you guys with my music. That was I wanted to do. But something changed that goal as the years passed by.

"I know I've been a bad role model, and I've failed to be who you guys hoped to look up to, as well as my failure to make good decisions, but instead, bad decisions that influence you guys negatively, and how you look at me. I wouldn't be surprised if you guys looked at me in a different light," he joked.

"But, I'm sorry. I just wanted to say, simply, sorry." He could see some of his fans that were in the front rows, tearing up, which made him smiled to himself.

"I promise to be a better role model – a better person in general.

"I promise to never sink into that kind of lifestyle anymore.

"I promise to never cancel on you guys, again, when you guys were eager to just hear my music.

"I promise I won't fade away like that, anymore.

"And I promise to keep these promises." He smiled when he saw a majority of his supporters smiling at his last statement. They made him happy, as well.

"I'll say it again: I'm sorry. I will never change again. Those times for me were my darkest and weakest moments in life. But, I would like to thank you guys for sticking with me – for me – in my darkest times. I'm thankful that you guys didn't abandon me and left me in the dark when I messed up horribly. I'm sorry, and I love you all." He ended his speech with that last statement.

It has been a while since he had told his fans he loved them. So, he figured it was the right time to tell them that.

The stadium was silent for a moment...

...and then it erupted into a loud discord. The crowd cheered wildly, crazily, and loudly.

"We forgive you!"

"We love you too, Austin!"

"We support you!"

"We never thought of you in a bad way!"

He grinned goofily at his fans loud declarations.

Then, he just remembered something all the sudden.

"One last thing." It was silent again, so that they could hear him speak. He looked up into the sky, his eyes closing. "If you're listening, or if you're here, present, I just wanted to tell you something, Ally." He opened his eyes, slowly, revealing the coca brown eyes that mesmerized his fans. "I'm sorry, Ally. Forgive me. I know I made so many mistakes, I hurt you, I destroyed your trust, and more faults that I can't name, but I just need you. I don't need you to take me back – even if I want you to – I just want you to acknowledge me, like before. Like before we were dating, as friends. I can't... I just can't live a life without you. You're my everything. I'm sorry."

He felt eyes on him – a special and unique person.

He knew that feeling. It only happened when she was there.

That unexplainable feeling that happened; it drew them together. It was...

He tilted his head back down to the crowd, and immediately, his eyes locked with another pair of eyes.

He spotted her immediately.

She was clad in a long coat, and a hat that covered her hair, bundling it tightly so that no strands were revealed. Her eyes were wide, and he hands were clasped together tightly against her chest. She had her lips pressed together tightly.

He knew immediately that she was covering up, disguising herself, so that he wouldn't recognize her. But he could. He could recognize her anywhere, disguise or no disguise.

Ally.

Ally Dawson.

His heart.

His soul.

* * *

She looked startled that he recognized him so easily as that.

She abruptly pushed past the crowds, trying to get through and away from the area she was located, and more importantly, escape from him.

His eyes narrowed. His brain signaled to him that she was trying to leave. His conclusion left a bitter taste in his mouth.

She was trying to close him away – to keep him in the dark, concerning matters about her life, when she could just waltz in his just like that.

No.

He wouldn't let her. He wouldn't let her go without a fight. She couldn't – wouldn't – leave him. He let her slip easily from his fingers before. Not if he had a say in it.

Now, he would not let her go until she received explanations.

He quickly got offstage, pushing the crowds of people – his fans – away, so that he could get closer to her, muttering, 'excuse mes', 'urgents', and 'sorrys,' while doing so (It was obvious that they hadn't realized that Ally was in the crowd, poor disguise or not, or else they would have parted, like the Red Sea, and let him through to her so that they would be able to speak. They were too busy being emotional with his speech and resolution that he just delivered.).

"Ally!" he shouted. She didn't stop, but instead, did the opposite – she slid through the crowd quicker than before. Still, his fans didn't part, and insisted on being the barrier – the wall – that separated him and Ally.

"Stop!" She didn't. He tired to push past the crowds of people without coming off as a jerk, but they kept of clinging, and to letting him trespass. They became a wall between the lovers.

"Ally!" She was slipping from him. She was almost gone.

He had once last chance to make it right with her before she left (left his life). With all the courage his mustered up at the last second, he shouted as loud as he could,

"I love you, Ally Dawson!"

* * *

**A/N:**

Huge thanks to _StorieeMakeer123 _for supplying me with the song, which fit the story perfectly like puzzle pieces! The song is by Mai Lee, and it's called, _'When Love Was'_. I was listening to '_Not a Love Song_', full version, too. (If you haven't heard it, you should! Listen carefully! At 1:50, Ross sung, _'I really do love you'_. I was legit fangirling when I heard that coming from my speakers at 1:50. OMG! I also heard the new song, 'I Can Get Your Heart Beatin' Like That', from the new episode that will air Sunday, while writing this out, and now I'm in a good mood. ( www . youtube watch ? v = Z1B5Zuh8SMc) and I was legit swooning at the sound of his voice~ and the end!)

**A human body can survive 8-14 days without water depending on the person and how fast sweat, urine, and tears are leaving the body and up to 4 weeks without food depending on conditions like weight, temperature and exertion.

How do you think Ally will react? (You really should listen to these two songs when reading this chapter. It helps with the mood, and listen to '_Not A Love Song'_ at 1:50 carefully. ( www . youtube watch ? v = DnZIyVH2UJo&feature = related) Get rid of the spaces! :D)

Okay, aside from that (fangirling), we're done. The epilogue will be posted soon, I hope, depending on my free time.

Updates range from 5-12 days.

Follow me on twitter for occasional updates and usual idiocy! My user is . KairiR5! :)

Drop me a line? (: (I wanna hear you're thoughts; I enjoyed them a lot!)


	8. Happily Ever After

**Summary:** He messed up in the past; now she belongs to someone else. One fateful wish may be all he needs to win her back. He had one last chance. He better not screw it up a second time. Auslly, AU.

**A/N: **Oh mannnnn! We're done! I'm done! Sorry for the long wait; there was... some things I had to do. Thank you faithful readers & reviewers! It's been a long two/three months, but _'Chasing Yesterday'_ has finally gotten it's impending ending! 80+ reviews? You guys are AW-SOME! (Can you guys try 100 reviews? And if you don't reach it – it's okay! I love that you guys gave this story a chance, and thank you for that!) I treasure each of your reviews, even if I didn't respond to them (no time, sorry!). It was fun, and a bit challenging, to write this story, but I accomplished it, with the support of my faithful readers & reviewers! :D

Oh, and check out my new one-shot, _'When in Love...' _It's dedicated for you guys (You're awesome!)! It's very humorous... and it's very fluffy. Also, I'm going to post another one-shot in a moment. It's called _'University Life'_, and it's supposed to be humorous... so check it out, and let me know what you think! I wrote it to make up for my crappy update... I hope you guys are okay with it! :D

Explanations and whatnots at the end **A/N**!

**Warnings**: OOC, Not beta'd, swearing/language (Mostly Austin's fault), etc.

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Austin&Ally. I wish. But, no.

* * *

**CH VIII: **

H.A.P.P.I.L.Y.E.V.E.R.A.F.T.E.R.

* * *

_...Because every ending always has a beginning..._

* * *

_"I can get your heart beat-beat-beat-beatin' like,__  
__I can get your heart beat beatin' like that.__  
__You know you got my heart beat-beat-beat-beatin' like,__  
__Hey-ay, ay-ay._

_"Would you, would you want it if I stood up above a crowd,__  
__got up on a chair and if I shouted your name aloud.__  
__Could you, could you take me, call me baby without a doubt,__  
__I'm shouting your name right now, shouting your name right now._

_"Don't you get it, get it, I'm not like them other ones,_  
_raise upon the notion, I ain't hosting no reruns._  
_I said it, said it, said it, wouldn't let it be all or none,_  
_'Cause I ain't no rerun, I ain't no rerun._

_"I'll make you forget (forget),_  
_what you came here for._  
_For goodness sake, let's make or break this heart,_  
_'Cause it needs more._

_"I can get your heart beat-beat-beat-beatin' like,_  
_I can get your heart beat beatin' like that._  
_You know you got my heart beat-beat-beat-beatin' like,_  
_Hey-ay-ay-ay._

_"I can get your heart beat-beat-beat-beatin' like,_  
_I can get your heart beat beatin' like that._  
_You know you got my heart beat-beat-beat-beatin' like,_  
_Hey-ay-ay-ay._

_"(Hey-ay)_  
_Let me hear you like,_  
_(Hey-ay-ay)_  
_(Hey-ay)_  
_Can you do it like,_

_"Hey-ay, ay-ay."_**_(1.)_**

He sang perfectly into the microphone, dancing along with the upbeat music.

The crowd erupted into a loud applause, to which he bowed playfully.

"Thank you, thank you!" he breathily responded. "You guys are too kind!" He grinned, and then saluted playfully.

"Encore!" shouted a fan from the front row. She, the fan, was the catalyst to which more shouting for 'encores' from other fans erupted. He shook his head.

"Sorry, guys," he apologized whole-heartedly. "My throat is getting a little sore from the singing for four hours straight. It's getting a little late, too." He grinned. "Besides, didn't you guys says 'encore' for the last hour? If my memory is correct – and it is because I'm still young; not yet old to forget things easily like that – that's what you guys basically said in the last hour."

He saw pouting from several girls in the audience. He laughed playfully, panting out of breath.

"Sorry."

"Aww!"

"See you next time!" he dismissed, waving a hand over his shoulder. He shook hands, gave out high-fives, and thumbs-ups, with the band, and thanked them for their hard work for the last few hours, before heading backstage, while ignoring the wailing and pleas of, 'One more song!' erupting from his loyal fans.

One more song to them was the equivalent of ten more songs, in their case.

He shook his head, but a small smile touched his lips.

That was their way of showing him that they loved him, and he loved them back equally, if not more.

The only thing (person) he loved more than his fans and his music (music in general) was her – Ally Dawson.

...But things have gotten complicated between them... Not to say that he doesn't love her anymore – he did! He does! He loves her with everything he has!

But...

"Austin!" Trish shouted.

He turned his attention to her, and immediately spotted the rest of the gang – Team Austin – Trish, Dez, and Ally – _Ally _– standing a few feet away from the spot he was residing. They were all cheering for him; waving and shouting. Ally was cupping her hands around her mouth to make her voice sound louder, Trish was shouted, and waving a hand at him to come over there, and Dez was gesticulating with both of his arms above his head, shouting his name, goofily.

He grinned and jogged over to them, hugging them each with vigor, feeling particularly elated at the moment.

"Thanks guys!"

He hugged Trish first. She was his manager, and without her, this concert wouldn't have been planned. "Thanks Trish," he whispered. He crouched down to embrace her, laughing at that evil, vile, expression on her face, that practically screamed, _'I hate being short – I hate being the shortest out of us four!'_

But, nonetheless, she hugged him back with equal vigor and grinned, saying,

"You did awesome, Austin."

He hugged Dez next. They were practically the same height, so there was no crouching necessary. "Buddy, you were amazing! You rocked that concert today! Oh yeah! You blew their socks off!"

"Oh yeah... thanks dude, for all the support you've given me throughout the years you have known me."

"No problem. That's why we're buddies." He nodded.

"Definitely."

And then there was her. He practically strode – ran – to her side and hugged her so tightly that she was unable to breath. It didn't go unnoticed by neither Trish nor Dez that he had hugged her the longest out of them three – perhaps an even longer hug than the two combined.

"Austin, you were so awesome out there. You nearly blew my mind away."

"Ally. Thank you."

They parted, and he faced his friends.

"Thanks guys for the compliments, but I couldn't have done it without you guys."

They smiled at one another, and got into a group hug.

It seemed like everything was perfect.

...But not complete.

:::

_"Ally Dawson!" he shouted. "I love you!"_

_She stopped abruptly and froze._

_Her heart began to rapidly beat in her chest, threatening to burst out of her body._

_He... h-he l-loves her?_

_He never told her that, no matter how much she wanted to her those words escape from his lips._

_She would always tell him she loved him, her subtle way of tell (and hinting) him that she wanted him to say it back to her, that she wanted to hear those words badly coming from him, and directed to her._

_...But he never did get the hint..._

_...until today._

_And now that she heard those three important words, she wanted to savor it – to savor the moment while it lasted before the moment was ruined._

_Caught up in her reverie, she didn't notice the parting of the crowd and the thumping of his feet across the floor as he tried to get to her desperately, before she escaped._

_Neither did she notice the pair of arms that wrapped around her waist, nor the face that pushed itself into her hair, holding on to her tightly as if she would disappear._

_"Ally," he begged. "Don't go. Don't leave me. I need you. I will go insane. I love you."_

_Her heart thumped inside her chest painfully, and so loud, so loud that she swore everyone in the world could hear it._

_She couldn't believe he was capable of making her feel this way, even after he hurt here too many times to count._

_But she knew why._

_She forgave him every single time because she loved him so much._

_This is what love felt like._

_Love... to her, meant that she – anyone else for the matter – would do anything for another person – the object of their feelings, no matter how much they hurt her – that person – in the past._

_This is why when she tried dating someone else; she couldn't, because her heart belonged to another – to Austin Moon._

_...Because she could never love anyone else, no matter how hard she tried and wished for it to happen._

_...Because he would be her single sole love._

_...Because she loved him._

**1. **If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love; I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. **2. **If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. **3. **If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

**4. **Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. **5.** It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. **6.** Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. **7.** It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

**8**. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. **9.** For we know in part and we prophesy in part, **10**. but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. **11**. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. **12.** Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

**13**. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. **(2.)**

_Love had many positive aspects, but it had a downside, too. Love caused heartache and heartbreak from unrequited love. People would do anything for love, even to the circumstances of illegal measures._

_"I'm sorry, but I love you," he whispered. "And that will never change."_

_And at that exact moment, she realized that he would never love someone else, ever, either, because his heart belonged to hers, and hears belonged to him._

_No matter how many one-night stands he had, no matter how many times she forgave him easily, no matter how many mistakes they made because of their clouded judgment, they knew that, in the end, they loved each other._

_Unconditionally._

_And that's how it's going to be._

_"I'm sorry," he murmured, over and over again._

_He began kissing her everywhere he could reach: her neck, her face, her eyes, her lips, her nose, her ears, her neck – everywhere – while chanting, "I'm sorry."_

_And she just stood there, letting him do as he pleased._

_...Because she loved him._

_"Austin," she whispered hoarsely. "Austin, stop." He continued his actions, ignoring her. "Austin, please."_

_He paused, finally hearing her pleas._

_"Ally, I can't kiss you anymore." It came out more like a statement than a question. "I said I was 'sorry'!"_

_"Austin, Austin!" she demanded. "Listen to me." He frowned slightly, but nodded._

_"Okay. I'm listening." She put her hands on his shoulders and stared at him – into his eyes – deeply._

_"Listen to me, Austin," she begged. "Listen to me before you go on a rampage."_

_"I'm listening," he repeated, slightly curious and nervous. Something in his gut was warning him about her cautiousness on the subject, and how she was acting like she was trending on dangerous grounds._

_Like she was walking on a minefield – filled with bombs hidden underground..._

_She looked around, and eyed the spectators that were intently watching them converse – right to every breath and murmurs. She pressed her lips into a thin line._

_No need to let them get involved with their love life. No need for them to know what they're going through._

_It was their business – and theirs alone – and no one needed to get involved but them._

_She dragged him to a secluded area, where trees and green grass surrounded them as they walked around. Once she deemed that they were truly alone – that no one was lurking around – she turned to him and gave him a sad smile, alerting alarms in his head._

_"Look, Austin... I... I l-lo-like you," she blurted out, unable to proclaimed her love for him. He frowned momentarily._

_She couldn't tell him that she loved him?_

_He passed that hurdle; he was able to proclaimed his love in front of thousands of fans, when he was unable to before._

_...But she couldn't._

_D-did that mean that she no longer l-loved him?_

_His blood went cold and he was numb and went stiff._

_She couldn't keep up with his shit. She was done with him because of his brash and foolish actions._

_"B-but... I think we need to... we need a b-break."_

_"What?" he whispered, horrified. "We're breaking up?" He immediately drew to a conclusion._

_"No. Yes. No. Yes. No... I mean... We're not breaking up. I mean... we're just going to be on a hiatus for a while. I still l-l-lo- have feelings for you, but I think we need to stop for a while."_

_"Why?" he asked, feeling terribly numb._

_"Austin..." she started. "I know we feel strongly for one another, b-but I want to make sure that we are meant to be... That the fights, the arguments, and all these hurdles are just any other obstacles in our relationship. It it's just like any other relationship out there..."_

_He remained quiet._

_"If we can... if we can get past this disagreement, we're meant to be... if we can't... then... then... we were never meant to be a couple."_

_His heart shattered._

_She couldn't possibly... she couldn't possibly suggest they do this?_

_What if he makes more mistakes? What if she made up her mind and let him go, no matter what...? Under no circumstances would she take him back!_

_"Ally-" She cut in._

_"Austin. Please." She was serious. "Try it, please."_

_"Ally..." he mumbled. _

_Fine. He will just have to prove her wrong! _

_He will prove to her that he's capable of getting rid of his addiction of the riches of fame and that he is capable of halting his partying tendencies, and any other addictions that she doesn't approve of!_

_"Fine. I'll go with it... but under one condition." He looked her straight in the eye. She looked startled but challenged him, eyeing him wearily. _

_"What is it?"_

_"You can't date anyone while we're on hiatus."_

_"..." She looked shocked, but nodded numbly. "Okay. Deal."_

* * *

_Ally..._

He smiled.

They were sitting together in her father's store, Sonic Boom, while she was working her shift. She was at the counter, and he was sitting in one of those benches near the door, watching her as she worked hard.

At the moment, there were no customers, so she was just writing in her book.

"Ally." She turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah?" He just smiled and shook his head.

"Nothing." She rolled her eyes.

The store was silent again, as she began to write in her songbook, and as he was watching her. His curiosity prodded and itched at the back of his mind; his conscious was nagging him to sneak a peek at her book, to relieve his inner curiosity.

_'Curiosity killed the cat,'_ he thought, amused. _'...But a cat has nine lives. So, if Ally kills me, I have eight lives to spare!'_

Before he knew it, he found himself walking up to her, his mind set on depicting what she wrote in her book. As soon as he reached her side, he peered over her shoulder and tried to read what she wrote.

His eyes caught the words of 'Austin', 'better', 'love', and 'trying,' before the book was shut, the cover facing him, instead of the pages in the book, and he was soon met with glaring dark chocolate brown eyes, boring into his own coca brown eyes.

he gave her a sheepish smile, as if that would get him out of trouble.

"Austin!" she cried out. "Really?"

"What?" he asked, as if he hadn't committed a serious crime.

"You were looking in my book!"

"So I was..."

"You... You know you're not supposed to! It's my secret and private book, where I write all my thoughts down. You can't read it!"

"Hm... why not?" he questioned, feeling slightly playful at the moment.

"Yo-you!" she stammered. "You're so full of hubris, jerk! Once a jerk, always a jerk!" she exclaimed. She huffed, and grabbed her belongings – her songbook, bookbag, pencil, and keys (to her home, and to the store) – and made her way to the exit.

(Closing the store early today (just for one day – this day) wouldn't kill her, or her father. Sure her father would be angry, but she couldn't care less at the moment. All she wanted to do was to escape this hellhole. Hellhole because he was in here, and acting like a jerk.)

His eyes widened as he realized her intentions.

She was thinking of leaving!

"Ally!"

He immediately sped to the door and blocked her exit with his body.

"Ally!" he exclaimed.

"Move, Austin," she grit out.

"Ally... no." She met his eyes with a dark stare.

"Move."

"Listen to me!" She frowned.

"Why should it?"

"Because I said so." She threw her hands up in the air, frustrated.

"You are so full of yourself!" she pushed past him, intent on leaving, when he wrapped his arms around her waist, begging her to listen to him.

"Ally... I'm sorry. I don't know what overcame me."

"I do – you're just a self-centered jerk, who goes to limitless measures to get what he wants. And if he doesn't get what he wants, he does his best to get what he wants. You just won't stop until you obtain what you want!" she shouts, agitated.

"I know, I know... I'm sorry. It's all my fault," he whispered, horrified that she would be upset with him.

He didn't want that.

The last person in the world he wanted to be upset with him was her – Ally Dawson.

"Ally..." he murmured." He tightened his grip on her, pressing his mouth to her hair. "I'm sorry," he chanted.

She sighed and relented, relaxing under his touch.

"Fine. I forgive you, just don't do that anymore."

"Do what?"

"Mess around with my private life, meaning trying to look into my songbook."

"Gotcha," he confirmed. She rolled her eyes and leaned into his touch.

"Austin..."

"Hmm?"

"I'm going for a walk... can you let me go?" He leaned his head back for a bit to eye her, confused.

"Wait. No. Let me go with you."

"Alright."

* * *

They were walking down the road, silent, as they took their stroll.

"Austin."

"Ally."

It was silent.

"So..." he murmured.

"Hm?"

It was silent again.

"Nothing," he sighed.

There was an awkward silence surrounding them, and he didn't like it at all. As a plus, much to his distaste, they were walking with several feet apart – this awkward gap filling their space.

He frowned.

He inched closer to her, his hands twitching to touch her hand with his own. His finger grazed hers, but she didn't notice, so he persisted, his finger coming in contact with her fingers.

She glanced up at him briefly, but looked back at the road.

The process continued, with him slowly trying to hold her hand, timidly, and her acting indifferent.

Eventually, his hand connected with hers.

Soon, they were holding hands, and there was barely an inch between them as they walked on.

...

They reached the entrance of his home, and he stood in front of her, as she faced him.

"Ally."

"Austin."

They keep up their banter for a moment, before another silence surrounds them.

She clears her throat, and tries to end this awkward-ness between the two of them.

"I guess I'll see you..."

She turns around to enter her house and shut the door, when she is pulled back by a gentle grip on her wrist.

"What the-"

Before she knew it, she was pulled towards him, and soon enough, their lips are connecting passionately.

Sparks flew, emerging between them.

...Like fireworks.

They continued kissing for another minute, before they broke apart for air, and he leaned his forehead against hers.

"That's my resolution to fight for you, Ally. For your love."

"Austin..." she breathily exhaled.

"I love you."

"I-I... I l-l-lov-" She stopped abruptly. "I-I'm sorry... I can't do this..."

"It's okay," he reassured her. "Take your time. I'm not forcing you to declare your ultimate love for me. I _know_ you _do love me_. It was pretty obvious with how you were kissing me back passionately."

She rolled her eyes.

"Typical Austin." He grinned.

They exchanged smiles, before he became serious again.

"I'm serious, Ally. I'm not going to give up."

"I believe you," she whispered. She kissed him swiftly on the cheek before departing.

* * *

It's been months since the incident, with him kissing her, and sneaking a peek at her songbook without permission.

He had tried so hard to prove his love to her, and she had taken notice of his advances. But she hadn't addressed the issue at hand, yet.

She wasn't responding to his advances!

He had done everything – stopped partying, stopped being self-conceited, stopped being selfish, stopped smoking, stopped doing drugs, stopped drinking – stopped everything that she believed was wrong.

But what did he have to do?

"Ally..." he whined. "Are you going to forgive me?" She gave him a half-glance.

"Nope. Not yet."

"Why not?" he pressed on.

"Because I need to know that you're serious."

"How?"

"Figure it out." And then she left him alone in the store.

Her songbook was in the open, and he was tempted to look in it. (Maybe she left it behind by accident.)

He pressed his lips into a thin line and looked around, cautiously.

There was no one around... and he was about to look into her book.

His hand reached out, grazing her songbook, when he froze, and halted all movement.

His hand retreated, and he bowed his head in shame at the thought of him breaking her trust over and over again.

No.

What kind of boyfriend would he be if he continually broke her trust?

What was a perfect boyfriend?

He tapped his chin in thought and sighed.

_Kind._ He had to be kind. He had to be caring and thoughtful of her – he had to take her feelings into consideration.

_Obedient._ If she wanted privacy, that's what he will give her, and that included not invading her space by looking into her songbook – her thoughts.

_Polite._ If she wanted him to be sophisticated and polite, he will be just that.

_Trusting._ She need to trust him with his songbook, even if she laid it out in the open like that.

_Loving._ He had to love her with all his mind, body, and soul, no matter what she committed against him.

He had to prove that to her, to prove that he was the perfect boyfriend.

He would start with leaving her songbook alone...

...No matter how much his curiosity was edging him on to sneak a peek – a small one.

:::

She grinned behind the tree she was hiding in.

He passed.

She could barely hold her joy inside herself.

He proved he could overcome his mistakes.

He was the perfect boyfriend.

She originally left her songbook behind on purpose, to test him, to see if she could place her trust in him.

And he passed.

By not looking into the songbook, he proved his worth.

She got out from behind her hiding spot and raced inside the store, intent on smuthering him in her happiness. He looked startled by her sudden appearance as he turned around to face the noise.

"Ally-"

"Austin!" She crashed into his chest and wrapped her arms around his chest tightly, not letting go.

"Ally?" he whispered. She nodded into his chest, and kissed his chest.

"What happened?"

"You're forgiven."

"What do you-"

"I love you." He stopped all his actions and gave her one of his biggest grins.

"I love you, too!"

...

_...And with every end, there is a new beginning._

Together: Nothing's impossible.

Forever together._  
_

* * *

**A/N:**

**(1.)** _'Heartbeat Beating'_ belongs to Austin&Ally and Disney Channel. (It's an amazing song (But what A&A song isn't?)! If you haven't heard it, I suggest you do immediately!)

**(2.)** Verses from 1 Corinthians 13: 1-13 in the Bible.

Huge thanks to you guys for reviewing! And time for explanations! :D (Long A/N... Sorry... loads of explanations needed.)

For this chapter, I was thinking of many things... the ending may not have pleased some people, but in my mind, it was the ideal ending. I always thought Ally would forgive someone easily, but they would have to prove that they are truly sorry. And she made Austin wait, testing his patience. If he truly loved her, and he does, he would have to wait for her, no matter how long. And she couldn't proclaim her feelings ("I love you!") to him when he said, "I love you" to her because she needed to make sure he meant that, and not because he was trying to stop her from getting away.

Baby steps! Baby steps!

But, anyways, this was what I was basing this story on...

_When Austin's career begins to take off, he gets a taste of fame and fortune, and begins to neglect his friends, family, and girlfriend. Having enough, Ally breaks up with him to get a sense of normalcy in her life, after Austin bluntly becomes obsessed with the riches of fame and immerses himself in fortune, luxury, and parties constantly, getting drunk at times, rather than focus on his own career._

I tried to leave some clues to his behavior in each chapter... so, try to reread the story and pick up a clue or two, now that you know what has happened to him... :D

Thank you for the amazing time while I wrote my first multi-chapter story! There's more to come, and I'll post several one-shot throughout the summer... More chapter stories coming to you in the fall or some time after summer... There may be a poll up, in which I let you guys decide what my next project should be, so keep an eye out for that! There will not be a sequel of some sort. I'm going to leave it like this. Sorry. (I honestly don't know how to do a sequel to this, anyways...)

Follow me on twitter for occasional updates and usual idiocy! My user is KairiR5! :)

Drop me a line? (:

Have a nice summer! ;)


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